


When I'm With You (I Have Fun)

by noonaofdarkness



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: M/M, Romance, Slice of Life, Slow Burn, heavy social drinking, slight mentions of hazing, slight mentions of homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-26
Packaged: 2018-08-16 07:27:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8093386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonaofdarkness/pseuds/noonaofdarkness
Summary: After a decade away, Baekhyun returns to his hometown to work in his family's kimbap shop. In walks Park Chanyeol, a familiar face from his past who reminds him that maybe small town life isn't so horrible after all.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> My first (and only attempt) at long fic. Three chapters + prologue and epilogue. I'll post the parts as I finish editing them. The entire thing should be up by the end of the week. 
> 
> Title and chapter cues taken from the Best Coast song "When I'm With You." (Playlist in the final notes)

Smoking when sober is the first habit that Baekhyun picks up once he’s back in Gwangcheon. After about three days in his tiny hometown, he finally understands why every ahjussi seems to permanently have a cigarette between his fingers. 

Small town life is just that uneventful, and smoking is something to do. Something to look forward to, something to structure his idle time away from the company of the semi-familiar faces of his past that he’s surrounded by every day. 

As he raises the cigarette to his lips, he smells the eau du radish of his fingertips. Ignoring it, he draws a heavy puff, closing his eyes and leaning back against the cool concrete wall. 

“It’s a temporary thing,” he reminds to himself as he exhales. They’re the same words he’d told his mother when he arrived back two weeks ago. Instead of his usual overnight duffle in-hand, he’d come with two full suitcases and the heavy weight of disappointment on his shoulders. 

It’d been the most obvious thing to his mother: post-grad and directionless, Baekhyun would return to his hometown and help out at the family’s kimbap shop until he figured out a plan. Perhaps the mundane work will knock some sense into him, force him to muster up the drive he’s been lacking the past few months in Seoul. His grandmother, of course, had been more than happy to accommodate him. She always tells him how much she misses the commotion of a full household. 

His mother had joined him for the two hour journey, using the opportunity to pay her respects to her former mother-in- law. Never one to explicitly state her disapproval, she’d followed him into his temporary bedroom as he was unpacking to let him know he would start working at the restaurant on Tuesday. Given that he’d be all but living off of his family for the time being, he had been in no position to argue. 

She had returned to Seoul the following morning alone, and that was that. 

 

Baekhyun peeks in to check on Miss Lee just as she’s barking orders at the delivery worker, Changmin. His eyes shift from watching her pack up the delivery boxes to surveying the small back kitchen, and he’s hit with a strange wave of deja vu. He remembers curling up back behind the counter, EBS textbooks spread all around him as he crammed for the high school entrance exams. He remembers Miss Lee sneakily letting pre-teen him read comics in the back when they weren’t busy, and showing off to his middle school friends that he could roll a whole delivery set in under three minutes. He even remembers scalding his hand on the jjigae stock when he wasn’t paying attention as a child. 

The place is littered with so many memories. But that’s the thing, they’re supposed to remain memories. He isn’t supposed to be back at 25, clad in a red apron, rolling tuna rolls for the middle aged office workers who frequent the shop during lunch time. 

He’s supposed to be in Seoul. Preferably causing a ruckus with Joonmyun somewhere in Hongdae and actually putting his communications design degree to use at a marketing firm. 

_A temporary thing_. He snuffs out the cigarette and returns to his post. Things don’t always work out as planned, and maybe that’s what disappoints him the most.


	2. The world is lazy, but you and me, we’re just crazy.

Baekhyun’s never had a particular aversion to pickled vegetables before. In fact, he’s always thought fondly of the little tubs of vegetables that fill the counter of his family’s kimbap shop. Now though, after the smell of pickled radish has permeated his nostrils and fingertips for the past two weeks, he’s learning that things have a way of changing. 

Not only that, but his radish-scented fingers also hurt. Years of designing in his sketchbook and on his tablet haven’t prepared his hands for the manual labor that is slaving away in a kimbap shop for six hours a day. The latex gloves cling to his skin, producing a powdered sweat beneath the plastic that refuses to wash off even at the end of the day. It’s gross, uncomfortable, and he wants to be anywhere but here. Anywhere but back in the shop that was once the location of his fondest childhood memories; anywhere but back in town with Miss Lee looming over his shoulder and yelling orders every few minutes in rapid succession, expecting him to absorb every word without the chance of her repeating herself. 

_Laver, rice, radish strands, mayo, tuna, carrots_ , Baekhyun lists the ingredients in his head as he places them atop the mat. In the two weeks he’s been home, he’s gotten much better, much quicker. He’s still far from proficient, though. 

He finishes the set and places it in a small to-go box by the register before moving on to the next order. 

His hands are busy, and his mind is so very bored. He tries not to think about the fact that he spends more time with vegetables and seaweed than humans these days — or the fact that he’s humming along to the pop songs playing through the speaker behind the register. 

Joonmyun will never let him live it down if he finds out that Baekhyun knows every ad-lib to “Me Gustas Tu” when he’s sober. 

Just as he’s about to go for the high note, there’s a thump against the counter that causes Baekhyun to jump in place. He looks down to see an open box of shrimp rolls that he knows he finished rolling around ten minutes ago. It’s obvious that they’re his handiwork given the less than aesthetically pleasing shape of the roll. 

“Baekhyun,” there’s a stern voice over his shoulder. He turns, and looks down, to see Miss Lee peering up at him seriously. 

He gulps. Miss Lee can’t be more than five feet tall, and she shouldn’t be intimidating at all, yet, she _is._

“You can’t keep omitting cucumbers from the kimbap just because you have an aversion to them,” she clicks her tongue disapprovingly, but Baekhyun catches the small smile on her lips. 

Fighting the urge to pout, Baekhyun scrunches his nose, narrowing his eyes on the tub of cucumber shreds next to the sprouts. He’s not doing it on purpose, really. His fingers just seem to have a mind of their own as he’s struggling to keep up with the lunch rush. 

“But they’re gross,” he complains playfully, knowing it will bring a full smile to Miss Lee’s face. He’s known her his entire life — been reprimanded by her his entire life, more like — and she’s always a had soft spot for his whine, unlike his mother. 

There’s a sharp tug to his ear and Baekhyun winces. When did her hand get there? 

“You used to be such a well-behaved boy. What did all that time in Seoul do to you?” It’s her way of saying she missed him, which is nice. At least someone did. 

“I’m just trying to change the world, one cucumber-less roll at a time?” It’s hard to be charming when you’re curled over in pain. 

“You are entitled to your opinion,” she says, releasing his ear and pulling the rolling mat over the counter, placing another sheet of laver atop it, “But customers are expecting cucumber. The customer comes first.”

“Maybe they’ll try one of my rolls and see the light and we’ll be one step closer to removing all cucumbers from the premises.” He passes her the shreds of carrot she needs, again scrunching his nose as he watches her place a generous amount of cucumber slices on the rice. 

“Maybe I’ll tell your mother that you’ve had three deliveries returned today and then we’ll see who sees the light.” Miss Lee challenges. She won’t really do it, he knows. But it’s best to not test Miss Lee. She might even be more stubborn than he is once she sets her mind to something. 

“Fine, fine,” Baekhyun concedes. 

“Good. You can take your break now.” Miss Lee pats him affectionately — as if she wasn’t just lecturing him — and pushes him away from the counter. “Ten minutes.”

 

There’s no real reason to count down the minutes to the end of his shift, but Baekhyun does anyway. As the clock nears 4pm, he begins to clean up the kimbap station, placing discarded veggie bits in the bin and making sure there’s enough stock for the dinner rush. He even earns a small nod of approval from Miss Lee as he refills the cucumber tub without complaining. 

When he gets the all-clear from Miss Lee, he removes his bright red apron and hangs it in the back. The logo on the front of the apron catches his eye and he reaches out a finger to trace along the fading print of ‘Byun Kimbap.’ He can’t help but laugh a little to himself at the familiar blue print. This is the restaurant he grew up in. Much like everything else in the town though, even it feels unfamiliar to him now. 

Up until a few years ago the restaurant was known simply as “Byun Kimbap,” until his mother decided to uproot Baekhyun and herself to relocate to Seoul. When leaving the business in the hands of their trusted family friend, Miss Lee, franchising was a better option for business. Now the neon sign above the shop has been replaced with the generic _Kimbap Cheonguk._ The name makes everything feel sanitary, stale, impersonal. Though the aprons are offensively red, Baekhyun kind of likes them because they still read ‘Byun Kimbap’ just like the peeling blue letters in the front window.

The old name on the aprons, and Miss Lee with her obviously dyed magenta hair, are the only things that seem to have remained unchanged through the years. 

 

 

He sets off down the main drag of town, little idea of what to do with himself but knowing that he isn’t ready to return to his grandma’s apartment quite yet. She’ll still be out with her friends, most likely occupying park benches and gossiping until sundown, as they do every day. 

Admittedly, Gwangcheon isn’t as small as Baekhyun likes to paint it as in his whines to Joonmyun over the phone. It’s certainly grown since he was a small child and the only source of entertainment was the small strip of downtown noraebangs and arcades. Back then, the only thing the town had going for it was the Kim factory on the outskirts of town that employed a good third of the town. Now, Baekhyun can see how much the town has changed in his time away. There are new high rises, three new elementary schools, a new uptown area he has yet to see, and buses that run past eight pm… it’s getting there. 

However, it’s still no Seoul; it’s not even a Daegu or Ulsan. It’s a tiny blip on the peninsula compared to the cities that are bursting with life and people his age. 

As he winds his way through downtown, Baekhyun takes his time reacquainting himself with everything. It’s strange how the town can remain so unchanged yet so different at the same time. Small shops still litter the main drag, though all of them have new names and new signs. Packs of high school students roam about in their limited moments of freedom between school and _hagwon_ , but the after school academies Baekhyun remembers have been replaced by new fancy chains and the high school uniforms are now black instead of the blue he remembers. Ahjussis still lurk on random corners outside the marts, chain-smoking and drinking soju at 4pm. Only now, the backdrop they stand against features the new high rise apartment buildings on the town’s periphery, blocking the view of the mountains that surround the town. 

The last time he wandered these streets looking for entertainment, he must have been fourteen or so, before the pressures of high school and the future took over his life. Before he was tugged away from everything familiar and thrown into academy from 4pm ‘til midnight in an unfamiliar city. He and Jongdae would spend their afternoons tucked away in the noraebangs and arcades downtown, wasting what little money and free time they had trying to beat each others’ scores. 

As long as they’ve been friends, they’ve made a game out of one-upping each other. Looking back, Baekhyun wonders if that was their way of dealing with the pressures imposed on them when they were young — by turning grades, class rank, extracurriculars into a friendly competition. Whatever their original intentions, it’s a game that followed them to college, even to their time in the army. 

Some things don’t change with time. Jongdae and Baekhyun’s friendship is one of them. 

Baekhyun doesn’t want to think about who’s winning now. Mostly because he knows Jongdae is happily employed in Daejeon, with his own apartment and a girlfriend while Baekhyun is back in their small hometown, rolling kimbap rolls all day and his closest relationship is with a fifty-something year old woman.

The town is definitely more active now, the population more diverse, too. Baekhyun though, has no idea where people his own age (if there even are people his own age) would hang out in a town like this. He could always ask the Mini Stop worker, Minseok, since they seem to be around the same age. So far though, he’s only managed casual greetings because he doesn’t want to make himself look too desperate. 

He doesn’t want to make friends either. He wants to go back to Seoul where he already _has_ friends. 

So, he tucks himself into Caffe Bene for the early evening. He can always waste an hour or two sipping coffee painfully slow and doodling in the sketchbook he always keeps handy. Maybe he can annoy Jongdae and Joonmyun at work by whining at them via text message about how bored he is in an attempt to block out all the sickeningly sweet couples that fill the shop. 

It’s not a lot, but it’s certainly better than curling up on the sofa in his grandma’s empty apartment and watching Mnet until his eyes bleed.

 

 

 

“It’s strange coming home to company,” his grandma says with a wry smile as she hangs her parasol on the coat rack and takes off her visor. “Even when your grandfather and my sons were around, I rarely got home after the men.”

She catches sight of Baekhyun in front of the stove, stirring _deongjang_ half heartedly. “I certainly am not used to coming home to dinner.”

“No guarantees this is edible,” Baekhyun quips as she looks over his shoulder. “I haven’t cooked in a long time.”

“It smells right. Have a little more faith in yourself, Baekhyunnie.” She pats his shoulder affectionately before checking the rice cooker and pulling bowls from the cupboard. 

_Have a little more faith in yourself._

Her hands shake a little as she arranges the dishes on the counter, metal chopsticks bumping into the rice bowls. She takes it in stride, blaming the clamoring on addition of a second set of plating and not her failing agility.

He’d first noticed his grandma’s aging when her handwriting gradually became more sloppy in the letters she sent him in the army. Where there were once clear breaks between characters, the pencil began to drag, lines became less uniform. Now, with her in front of him, he notices how she slumps slightly forward with age, her bow legs becoming more pronounced in her loose floral pants. Her spirit remains unchanged, but the lines on her face speak to the loneliness she’s endured in the absence of her family. 

 

She smiles at him over the small table on the main room floor, over exaggerated moans leaving her lips and she samples the stew. 

“You can stop pretending it’s wonderful,” Baekhyun teases, “It’s just doengjang. Not exactly a five-star meal.”

“Nonsense.” She says stubbornly, “Anything my grandson prepares is wonderful.”

It’s funny, cause Baekhyun knows if it was any of her daughters-in-law, she wouldn’t hesitate to provide a full list of corrections. There are benefits to being the favorite grandson. His grandma’s praises are some of the only that don’t feel shallow to him, even if they’re shrouded in favoritism. 

 

 

“It’s nice to have you around,” His grandma says as she kisses his cheek goodnight. There’s a delicate apprehension in her eyes as she pulls away, like there’s more she wants to say, more reassurances she wants to provide him. Instead, she pats his shoulder one final time. “Don’t stay up too late with that notebook of yours. Miss Lee won’t be happy if you can’t keep up tomorrow,” She teases as she makes her way to her bedroom. 

Baekhyun looks down at the new sketch in his notebook, wondering if it’s even worth staying up late to finish. No one will be seeing it anytime soon anyway. 

Once the small sliver of light under his grandma’s door goes out, Baekhyun slides off the couch and onto the floor, reaching for his backpack. First, he pulls out his laptop, giving it time to start up as he untangles the cords of his drawing tablet. Once everything’s all plugged in he opens his pending works folder. 

_UntitledIllustration3.psd_

The title haunts him, but giving it a title would make it a thing. He hasn’t opened the nameless file since that argument with his mother the week after graduation when she’d slammed his laptop shut and told him to work on something _productive._

_Doodles won’t get you a job, Baekhyun..._

His cursor passes over the document, but refuses to press into the track pad. Instead, he opens a new document and begins to try his hand at re-designing the Caffe Bene logo he’d spent so much time staring at this afternoon. It’s still satisfying, filling in the colors of the letters, playing with the kerning of the logo. Most importantly, this is something he can add to his portfolio. 

 

 

Gwangcheon is too quiet, the loudest noise coming from the _bangguja_ truck that makes its scheduled rounds, spraying down the streets with a cloud of blue smoke and pesticides. Baekhyun misses the noise of Seoul, even just the constant echoes of traffic on the road became the backdrop to his daily life. Without all the hustle and bustle, his mind feels even more blank.

Radish still stinks, cucumbers are too present in everything, and Baekhyun is about ready to shoot himself from boredom. On the bright side, he can now pretty much keep up with the lunch rush without Miss Lee stepping in to pick up the slack. It’s a baby step, and not necessarily in a direction Baekhyun wants. It’s not like he can add “rolls kimbap well enough to not be scolded by a tiny but intimidating 50 year old woman” to his CV. He doesn’t want to be improving — even if Miss Lee’s proud smile is a rare thing.

With a couple weeks under his belt, he’s more familiar with the customers. Miss Lee jokes that she can see some sparkle in his eyes once again, which is really her way of commending him for not sulking openly at work. After all, his misery is not everyone else’s misery, and Baekhyun’s always been a people person. If giving out smiles that don’t quite reach his eyes with kimbap rolls is enough to make someone smile, then he can at least feel a little satisfaction in that. 

His moments of solace come after the lunch rush, when Miss Lee steps out to run errands and he’s left alone to relax. Moments when there’s no patrons and he can curl up in the back booth with his sketchbook and not be within five feet of the vegetable bins. It’s the only quiet he doesn’t mind. 

The bell above the door dings not ten minutes after he’s sat down, and disrupting his quiet sketching in the back. He fights the urge to scowl at the intruder as he sets down his pencil between the pages of the sketch book. 

Instead of the string of curses he would like to release, he manages to holler out a welcome before he looks up. 

His greeting dies out as his eyes land on a pair of atrocious hiking pants, popular with ahjussis the world over. He follows the long legs up to see a slightly less offensive t-shirt, and a face that’s much younger than the fashion initially suggested. More plaguing though, he remembers that face -- knows those protruding ears -- from somewhere. 

“You’re not Miss Lee?” The deep voice pulls Baekhyun away from his scrutinizing thoughts. There’s an amused smile on the man’s face as he tilts his head to mirror Baekhyun’s contemplative gaze. Wide brown eyes scan him up and down.

“Byun Baekhyun?!” soon follows in question, there’s a clear flash of recognition — and perhaps glee? — in his eyes. “My mother said she thought she saw you the other day, I told her she was just imagining things. But sure enough, here you are!” He gestures grandly toward the restaurant and slaps his knee with joy. Baekhyun can’t understand why anyone would be that over-excited to see him back in Gwangcheon. 

Or why anyone would be that excited, period. 

“It’s a temporary thing,” Baekhyun manages to correct casually, eyes trained on the strange man as his left eye begins to twitch from the intensity of his own smile. “Helping out a bit before I head back to Seoul.” 

Baekhyun approaches the counter hesitantly, but the man’s smile never falters. In fact, when Baekhyun gets close enough, the underaged-ahjussi leans against the counter to get a closer look at him, disbelief still flashing in his eyes. They're so big, so expressive.

“I figured as much.” 

It’s odd, but strangely not invasive as the man looks him over. The only bit that frustrates Baekhyun is that he can’t place the man who obviously knows him.

It’s also unfair, because this guy might be the first person under the age of thirty to genuinely look happy to see Baekhyun back in town, and Baekhyun can’t even place him. He feels undeserving of that toothy smile. The man seems to sense Baekhyun’s unease and stands up straight, pulling himself out of Baekhyun’s personal bubble.

“Sorry,” the man apologizes in a weak chuckle, and Baekhyun’s eyes are pulled to the way he guiltily tucks his lip under his teeth and rubs the back of his neck with his hand. “Personal space. I’m not good with it. You probably don’t even remember me, right?”

 _Right_. But acknowledging that would be an asshole thing to say. So instead Baekhyun opens and closes a few times before the ding of the door rescues him. 

“Park Chanyeol,” Miss Lee chastises as soon as she sets eyes on the customer. “I leave for thirty minutes and you’re already terrorizing little Baekhyunnie.”

Park Chanyeol! Baekhyun definitely remembers that name. Of course the guy would be someone he went to middle school with. 

“I’m not little,” Baekhyun grumbles. It falls on deaf ears, as Chanyeol has already turned all his attention to Miss Lee with an affectionate smile on his face. He has so many teeth. 

“I was doing nothing of the sort.” Park Chanyeol throws his hands up with a guilty smile on his lips. “Really!” 

Apparently his words aren’t enough to save him from what looks to be a very painful tug of his ear. Baekhyun smiles gloatingly at Chanyeol’s pain. At least Miss Lee is always on his side. 

“Your hair looks lovely today, Miss Lee. Is that a new perm?” Chanyeol says charmingly, rubbing his sore ear.

“You always notice, Chanyeol-ah,” Miss Lee beams. “But don’t think your flattery will distract me from scolding you. Was Chanyeol giving you a hard time, Baekhyun?”

“I just wanted to see if he remembered me, that’s all. But you already gave the game away,” Chanyeol defends again, apparently sad to see that his charms don’t have the desired effect. “ _And_ I’m here to pick up my order.”

Both sets of eyes turn to Baekhyun and, crap, he totally forgot to check the online delivery system while he was sketching. 

“Baekhyun,” Miss Lee clicks her tongue, knowing exactly why he’s grimacing. “How many times have I told you that you have to check the register for online orders regularly?” 

Now it’s Chanyeol’s turn to playfully smile at Baekhyun. The online order system is new, and Baekhyun’s not used to having to keep up with orders that are placed through it. 

“I don’t mind waiting,” Chanyeol cuts in, smiling at Miss Lee with a victorious lopsided grin and the woman can only throw Baekhyun one final stern look before she relocates to the kitchen to unpack the new produce. 

 

 

Ignoring Park Chanyeol is not an easy task, Baekhyun learns. Not when he’s sitting there watching Baekhyun’s every movement, amused grin stretched across his face. He bounces his knees in anticipation, and the sound of his soles hitting the tile is distracting. He’s obviously not the type to sit still for long periods of time.

He can only contain himself for so long before Baekhyun catches him bouncing out of his seat in his peripheral vision, and walking back to the counter to watch Baekhyun at an even closer range. 

“So what have you been up to since you got back?” Chanyeol inquires after Baekhyun makes the mistake of meeting his eyes. There’s no awkward energy, like Chanyeol speaks so easily with anyone. 

“Honestly, not a whole lot besides helping out here.” His life has become so uneventful. 

Chanyeol nods in contemplation and Baekhyun decides to turn his gaze back to the order in his hands. 

“How about you?” He asks as he begins to pack the rolls into boxes. “What have you been up to since middle school?”

“Oh, so you _do_ remember me! And you know, just more of the same.” Chanyeol shrugs, “I help my mom out at our restaurant by day, cause trouble by night.” 

“Ah, a __galbi__ restaurant, right?” Baekhyun smiles to himself as the details begin to come back. 

“Bingo.” Chanyeol winks as Baekhyun hands him his order. 

“Admittedly, I did forget your name,” warmth floods Baekhyun’s cheeks at his own admission, “But I do remember you. Gwangcheon Middle School. There were only, what, seventy in our year?”

“Seventy-four,” Chanyeol corrects. “The class got a lot smaller once high school happened. Some kids like you moved away, half went to Hongseong Boys High School....” 

“You didn’t go?” Of course Chanyeol didn’t, Baekhyun knows the answer as soon as the words leave his mouth. He knows Chanyeol didn’t because Jongdae was also one of the boys who stayed in town instead of dorming a town away during the week. Jongdae didn’t mention Chanyeol often, but once or twice was enough for Baekhyun to know he was one of those who stayed behind. Plus, Chanyeol wasn’t… wasn’t the type to worry himself about entrance exams to more prestigious high schools. 

Chanyeol shakes his head no in response. A few strands of hair break free from the rest and fall onto his forehead. Chanyeol pays them no mind, as his eyes read Baekhyun’s reaction. 

“There was never any reason to go anywhere else, for me at least. My mom liked the idea of me staying close, too.” 

“Of course, of course.” Baekhyun finishes the final kimbap roll, wraps it in tinfoil and adds it to the box. He looks up from his handiwork and Chanyeol’s eyes are still on him -- it makes his fingers feel heavier, like they’re under some mysterious scrutiny. “Probably kept you out of trouble. I hear the Hongseong boys are wild. Rough.” 

Chanyeol chuckles, either missing the dark hint of Baekhyun’s words or choosing to ignore it. 

“You never know. Gwangcheon can be wild, too. You just have to know where to go,” he says lightly, with a wink. Something about his facial expressions, so knowingly exaggerated, breaks Baekhyun’s reminiscing, pulls him back to the present where Chanyeol is grinning and there’s nothing but the next order in the queue to trouble him.

“Right. Wild like Kim’s Beer and Hof. All those drunk ahjussis and the mini skirt waitresses that tolerate them every week night.” 

“Nah.” Chanyeol pulls a few bills from his wallet as Baekhyun rings up the order. “There are newer places for the under thirty crowd these days. Gwangcheon’s grown a lot since you left.”

“Oh really?” Baekhyun quirks a brow. He’s seen the new buildings, sure, they’re impossible to miss. But that hardly means there’s suddenly a wild night scene happening after the sun sets.

“If you’re as bored as I imagine you are,” Chanyeol reaches for the to-go bag on the counter, “You’re always welcome to hang out with me, I’d be happy to re-acquaint you. You remember Oh Sehun? We’re going out together tonight actually. You should come.”

Though Baekhyun and Chanyeol are nothing more than cordial strangers, Baekhyun is in no place to turn down an invitation. Especially an invitation that is offered so earnestly. Maybe he’s just desperate for companionship, but there’s something welcoming about Chanyeol.

“That could be fun,” Baekhyun muses, shutting the cash drawer with his hip.

“Could be? You’re guaranteed a fun time when you’re out with the two most eligible bachelors in town.” Chanyeol doesn’t catch himself before he pats Baekhyun’s shoulder, but he mumbles an apology immediately after anyway. 

“Most eligible bachelors?” 

“I admit, with only about ten of us ‘bachelors’ in town, it does cut down the competition a bit. But,” Chanyeol says, leaning in close again and dropping his voice to a whisper, “Sehun and I are two of the only ones who don’t have to color our hair.” 

Baekhyun giggles outright, imagining the horrible dye jobs he’s already observed on most of the men above thirty years of age in town. They always miss the same patch in the back, where little grey hairs sprout completely unbeknownst to them.

Chanyeol pulls out his phone and passes it easily to Baekhyun, “Here, give me your number. We can meet at my family restaurant at say, eight? Would that work for you?”

“That works fine.” 

Chanyeol leaves with his clumpy steps and a big wave to Miss Lee in the back. Baekhyun leans against the counter, staring at the new contact in his phonebook, wondering what he’s gotten himself into.

 

They were never friends in middle school. They weren’t enemies either. Park Chanyeol and Byun Baekhyun simply ran in different circles. Baekhyun was thrown into hagwon from the tender age of six onward; he studied diligently and skipped the rebellious teenage phase most of his classmates went through. He didn’t have time for much social interaction aside from his duties as class secretary and playing with Jongdae in the noraebangs whenever there was a moment of free time. 

Chanyeol, on the other hand, was always one of those country boys who never stressed about the future. Thinking about it now, Baekhyun realizes he doesn’t actually know much about the man aside from his own observations back then and the little tidbits of gossip Jongdae passed his way during their time apart in high school: Chanyeol never paid attention in English class because he was never going to need it; he was caught smoking behind the school with Oh Sehun in year 3 of middle school; he started his military service two weeks after they graduated.

Even more so now, Chanyeol is just a stranger who smiles with all the joy of baby in a diaper commercial, happens to be the same age as himself, and has horrible taste in casual wear. Yet, Baekhyun still finds himself humming with anticipation as his shift draws closer to ending that evening. Not necessarily because he’s excited to play catch-up with Chanyeol and Sehun, but because he has something to do that doesn’t involve being alone and thinking about what he’d rather be doing in Seoul at the moment. 

 

Baekhyun doesn’t need directions to Chanyeol’s family’s restaurant — there are only a handful of __galbi__ joints in town — but Chanyeol sends them anyway (along with entirely too many kakao emoticons). 

He pushes the door open and his eyes immediately land on Chanyeol, whose long legs are spread across the floor as he’s nose deep in the pages of a book. His ears stick out almost comically from under his cap, while his thumb taps against the brim of the book unconsciously. 

The restaurant is far from empty, but he doesn’t seem to be working. In fact, he seems completely oblivious to the commotion around him. Baekhyun lingers by the door, waiting for Chanyeol to sense his presence. Before the taller looks up, a petite blonde woman appears before him, asking where he’d like to be seated. 

The hostess’ voice grabs Chanyeol’s attention and he looks up from his book to meet Baekhyun’s nervous gaze. 

“Don’t worry about him, Hyoyeon,” Chanyeol hollers, folding the corner of the page he was on and shutting the book. _Human Acts_ , Baekhyun reads on the cover page. He’ll have to look it up later. “He’s with me.” 

“Oh! Byun Baekhyun?” Her eyes light up and Baekhyun feels the same warmth emanating from her that he felt from Chanyeol earlier that afternoon. It puts him at ease, even with the inquisitive eyes of a few diners now focused on him. 

“That would be me.” He bows in greeting, making note of her obvious awareness of his name and his plans with Chanyeol for the evening. 

“Kim Hyoyeon, nice to meet you.” A playful smile adorns her lips as she leans in to fake whisper in Baekhyun’s ear, “Be careful. Sehun and Chanyeol are nothing but trouble after the third beer.” 

She pulls away with a wink. “Don’t worry, I can handle myself,” he assures. 

“I wouldn’t doubt it.” Nodding her head, she changes the subject, “So you and Chanyeol are school friends?” 

“I wouldn’t say,” Baekhyun starts before clearing his throat, his eyes flutter over to Chanyeol who is watching their interaction intently from the corner of the open dining space. “Well, we went to middle school together, yes.” 

“I see.” She nods again. “So what brings you back to town?” 

Ah, the dreaded question. Baekhyun stumbles for the second time that evening, “I —“ 

Thankfully, a customer chooses that moment to holler towards Hyoyeon for more soju. 

“I’m sure we’ll see each other soon,” she says fondly, already reflexively turning her body towards the customer. “We can finish our introductions then.” 

He watches Hyoyeon go for a moment before his eyes trail back to Chanyeol and he is not surprised in the least to find the man watching him with that same inviting smile he always seems to be sporting. When their eyes meet, Chanyeol pats the floor cushion beside him, wordlessly beckoning Baekhyun to join him. 

“Don’t you have to help out too?” Baekhyun asks as he approaches. 

“Hyoyeon handles the ahjussis, the ahjummas are my specialty.” Of course they are. Baekhyun hadn’t missed the way Chanyeol flirted with Miss Lee earlier that afternoon. 

“I see. Just like Miss Lee. She obviously likes you quite a bit.” Chanyeol is young and seemingly polite with a teasing nature most ahjummas adore. He seems like the type to have every ahjumma in town wrapped around his fingers. 

Not to mention -- with his round eyes, strong jaw, and the natural pout of his lips -- he’s definitely not bad on the eyes. 

“Me?” Chanyeol chuckles. “You should hear the way she goes on about _you_. ‘Our Baekhyunnie’ this and ‘our Baekhyunnie’ that.” 

It’s hard to imagine the same woman who smacks his arm at least five times a day praising him to others, but at the same time it isn’t. Baekhyun knows he’s like a son to Miss Lee, who never had children of her own. Since Baekbeom never spent much time in the restaurant — too on track with his studies — Baekhyun and Miss Lee have always had a special bond. 

“Don’t look so shocked,” Chanyeol laughs, “You’ve given her plenty to brag about over the years.” 

“Ha, right.” It catches Baekhyun off guard that Chanyeol seems to know so much about him, even more so that he thinks Baekhyun has done anything brag worthy. If he had, he wouldn’t be back in Gwangcheon right now. 

This time, Chanyeol catches Baekhyun’s change of mood and doesn’t inquire further. He moves to stand, reminding Baekhyun of exactly how _tall_ Park Chanyeol has grown. 

“Ready to go?” he asks, more cheery than usual if possible, like he’s overcompensating for darkening the mood so early on. 

“Sure.” 

Chanyeol hollers a quick goodbye into the kitchen before placing his hand on Baekhyun’s shoulder and steering them out of the restaurant 

 

 

Baekhyun remembers the name Oh Sehun, but he can’t seem to attach it to a face, no matter how hard he tries. So, he assumes the stick figure leaning against a wall at the bottom of the street who throws them a casual wave must be said man. There aren’t many people under the age of thirty that linger on corners around here.

Unlike Chanyeol, whose feet seem to move in overexcited, uncoordinated steps, Sehun moves languidly, taking his time pulling away from the wall and turning to face Baekhyun. 

He tilts his head in assessment. His jaw remains set even when a small, lazy smile spreads across his lips and he greets them. Sehun’s only a few centimeters shorter than Chanyeol, but broader in the shoulders. Both of them, begrudgingly, tower over Baekhyun.

“Long time no see, Baekhyun hyung.” He says no more, instead turning his body to continue down the sidewalk ahead of Chanyeol and Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun decides then that likes Sehun. He doesn’t ask questions. 

They weave past the familiar sidewalks into an area of town Baekhyun’s never seen before. The buildings are noticeably newer, though the sidewalks are still adorned with the inflatable beer signs and celebrity cutouts that you’d find anywhere. This must be the newer part of the town he’d heard about from Jongdae. Three years ago, these streets were nothing more than rice fields. 

Catching his curious scan of the street, Chanyeol throws an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, his warm palm tapping just above Baekhyun’s elbow. “For your first night out on the town, we’re taking you uptown,” he says proudly, like he’s showing Baekhyun a whole new world. 

Sehun begins to hum ‘Uptown Girl’ under his breath and it makes Chanyeol laugh almost directly into Baekhyun’s ear. Chanyeol wasn’t kidding when he said he wasn’t good with personal space.

“Uptown?” 

“The new part of town. The Haejeon University students like to hang out here. Figured you might like to be around people your own age. I’m sure it’s no Seoul, but it’s the closest you’ll get to a Hongdae atmosphere around here.” Chanyeol’s arm falls from Baekhyun’s shoulder after he steers them into a marble building and guides them up the stairs. He sounds so excited to share this with Baekhyun, and something strange churns in Baekhyun’s stomach as he realizes Chanyeol -- a man he barely knows -- is thinking about places that would make him comfortable away from Seoul. 

Baekhyun had also forgotten about Haejeon, the small vocational collage on the edge of town. 

“I think you mean _my_ age, hyung,” Sehun cuts in, as they reach the second floor. The door reads _Beer Warehouse_ , and Baekhyun can hear the pop music blaring through the sound system. “You’re twenty five and decidedly no longer a college student.” 

Chanyeol pouts as he props the glass door open with his foot. “That hurts, Sehun-ah.” 

“If we’re going by your fashion sense, I’d say you’re twenty five going on fifty,” Baekhyun chirps in, earning a clap of approval from Sehun. Chanyeol’s round eyes flash with surprise for a moment and his mouth hangs open. 

Chanyeol is still gaping as the hostess greets him and Sehun with a familiar smile, gesturing towards the rows of fridges at the back of the bar. Chanyeol misses it because he’s too distracted narrowing his eyes at Baekhyun in faux betrayal. 

“I change my mind, you’re uninvited.” Chanyeol pouts, stretching his arms out to stop Baekhyun and Sehun from progressing towards an open table. His arms, much like every other part of him, are long and extend the entire width of the entryway. 

“No! I like Baekhyun hyung.” Sehun links their arms, effectively dragging Baekhyun to push past the wall that is Chanyeol.

Baekhyun sticks out his tongue over his shoulder, and Chanyeol has no choice but to follow them to the nearest open table. 

He’s seen his fair share of import beer bars in Seoul, with walls of bottled beers in refrigerators instead of a draft tap. Seeing one in Gwangcheon is a bit unexpected, but a little reassuring. Nothing beats craft beer on tap, but import beer is always good for variety -- and drunkenly dividing the tab at the end of the evening. 

And Chanyeol’s right. As Baekhyun scans the space, he notices the patrons are much closer in age to himself than anywhere else in town. Where did all these people come from? 

“University students like Sehun here only come into town to drink at night,” Chanyeol comments as he watches Baekhyun observe the bar. Sehun makes a beeline for the fridges, obviously aware of the selection as he grabs two bottles from the top shelf.

“That’s because we’re holed up in classes all day, and Gwangcheon isn’t exactly a youth-friendly town,” Sehun says, returning to the table with two bottles of Hoegaarden. “I didn’t know what beer you wanted, hyung. So I left it up to you to choose.” Sehun takes a seat beside Chanyeol and reaches for the bottle opener. 

“It could be, someday,” Chanyeol muses, “It just needs the right places.”

“Right. And now you’re gonna tell Baekhyun hyung about your baby.”

“You have a baby?” Baekhyun forgets about the beer he needs to select.

Sehun laughs outright, turning to Chanyeol for an explanation. 

“It’s actually _our_ baby,” Chanyeol says cutely, wrapping one of his long arms around Sehun. It’s funny how quickly Sehun’s face changes from fondness to one of complacent annoyance. 

“Your baby?” Baekhyun clarifies again, all the more baffled. All Chanyeol does is simper, tugging Sehun even closer. No matter how much Sehun squirms in Chanyeol’s hold, there’s familiarity in the gesture. 

“Not a real baby. Don’t worry.” Sehun pulls himself out from Chanyeol’s grip, shoving him off with a final half-assed jab to the ribs as he looks to Baekhyun. “Go get yourself a beer now, hyung. This could be a while… Once Chanyeol gets started.” 

Baekhyun heeds the advice, walking towards the fridges and missing the quiet banter exchanged between the two friends in his absence. Once he returns, Sehun’s reclined in his seat, and Chanyeol’s eyes are flared with that same anxious excitement Baekhyun saw in the kimbap shop. 

“So… your not-a-real-baby baby?” Baekhyun prompts. Sehun wordlessly passes him the bottle opener and Chanyeol leans across the table, placing his weight on his too-pointy elbows. 

“Here we go…” Sehun exhales. 

Chanyeol’s lips quirk in excitement as he mulls over his words. “Gwangcheon isn’t a huge place, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. There aren’t a whole lot of places to just… hang out. Unless you count the public parks, but the ahjummas kind of have those spaces on lock already.”

“Yet, you refuse to leave…” Sehun butts in. 

“There especially aren’t a lot of places for families to go and spend time together. So, Sehunnie here and I are going to open a coffee shop.” 

“A coffee shop? Like a franchise?” 

Chanyeol shakes his head, no. “Not a franchise. Our own place.”

“Why coffee though?”

“Chanyeol likes people. People like coffee --” Sehun’s obviously been through this discussion before. 

“And me!” Chanyeol boasts, earning an eyeroll from Sehun before he continues. 

“I’ll have a degree in hospitality soon, too,” Sehun adds, excitement finally breaking through in his voice. 

Baekhyun feels a sense of relief at the explanation, but a coffee shop, isn’t that….

“Aren’t there already a ton of coffee shops in town? Is that really the best idea?”

Baekhyun wishes he could take the words back as soon as watches the excited countenance disappear from Chanyeol’s face. The words fall from his lips the same way they echo in his own mind, in a voice different from his own but oh so familiar. After hearing them enough on his end, it’s become second nature to question the practicality of everything. But Chanyeol’s half frown reminds him that not everyone is thinking about the practical and instead following something much more… 

He doesn’t quite have a word for such a foreign concept. 

Sehun chooses that moment to raise his beer for a cheers, and Chanyeol’s face lights up once again. His smile reaches his eyes, but Baekhyun still feels a pang of guilt in his stomach. 

“So, tell us about you,” Chanyeol ventures, “Sehun and I have the cafe. What’s your baby?”

Baekhyun doesn’t have a baby. He had passions, but most of them were channeled into a communications marketing degree that trampled all over them in favor of profitable design. 

“Uh… I want to work in communications design,” he says, feebly. 

“That doesn’t quite answer the question, hyung.” 

“I like to illustrate. I’m currently focused on marketing design. Branding things, I guess.” 

“Oh, that’s cool!” And there’s genuineness in Chanyeol’s words. No questions about the potential for a career or a future. “You should totally design the logo for our cafe!” he suggests in the next breath. 

“Hyung, you haven’t even seen his designs yet,” Sehun remarks, teasingly. 

Chanyeol huffs, “It’s just a suggestion, of course. No pressure.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do besides shift awkwardly in his seat. It must be a small town thing, to assume that just because someone has a degree that they actually have talent.

Thankfully, Chanyeol soon gets distracted by the Hanwha Eagles game projected on the wall, which is followed by another round of beers and a lot less talk of future aspirations. Baekhyun falls into the chatter of pitchers and batting line-up easily enough, though he’s a Doosan Bears fan himself. 

Baekhyun spends the second drink observing Chanyeol and Sehun. At first, he doesn’t think it makes sense that someone as quiet as Sehun could get along with someone as overtly outgoing as Chanyeol. But, the more he watches the pair, the more he notices how well they complement one another. Where Chanyeol is overly animated, Sehun is more reserved. Chanyeol talks, Sehun provides snide comments. Yet, it’s very clear that Chanyeol is the older of the two, with the way he dotes on Sehun, cooing at him when he chokes on his beer after Chanyeol brings up Sehun’s crush on a girl named Yeri. 

While Chanyeol dominates the conversation, there’s a balance between them that extends beyond verbal communication. It’s there in the familiar way Chanyeol rubs his hand along Sehun’s knee as he talks, the way Sehun doesn’t bat an eyelash when Chanyeol messes up his hair for the fourth time that evening. 

It’s sweet, the brotherhood between them. It reminds Baekhyun of his own friends. If he and Jongdae had stuck around Gwangcheon, would they have turned out like this, too?

The topic of Kim Yeri -- and the beer and a half in his system -- make it easy enough for Baekhyun to join in the conversation. 

“So, Chanyeol tells me you two are the most eligible bachelors in town and I should be honored to hang out with you,” Baekhyun says speculatively, eyeing Chanyeol’s reaction. 

“Hey, I never said it was an ‘ _honor_ ’!” Chanyeol butts in quickly. 

It’s too late of a defense though, as Sehun chuckles behind his beer glass. “Chanyeol thinks awfully highly of himself for someone who’s perpetually single."

“And who has the fashion sense of an ahjussi,” Baekhyun throws in before his brain can stop him. “Honestly, I thought only men above fifty were allowed to wear those hiking pants in broad daylight."

“Hey!” Chanyeol defends a little too enthusiastically, bumping the table and causing the drinks to wobble. 

“It’s true hyung, and you know it,” Sehun says in a half-laugh that he hides behind his hand. 

“They’re certainly eye-catching,” Baekhyun adds in playfully a few moments later, and Chanyeol begins to smile at the compliment.

“… I don’t think he means that in a good way, hyung,” Sehun points out and Chanyeol’s face returns to a pout. It’s puppyish, cute even. 

“Why do I feel like introducing you two was a bad idea?” Chanyeol asks himself, or perhaps his beer bottle. Baekhyun can’t tell with the way the man’s eyes are slightly unfocused. 

“I like Baekhyun hyung.” Sehun raises his glass to Baekhyun in a toast. “Best idea you ever had, hyung.” 

Sehun and Baekhyun clink glasses as Chanyeol buries his face in his hands, dejectedly. “This is going to be a long night.” 

By the time they’ve wrapped up their fourth beer and decide to head to another bar, Baekhyun learns a few important things about Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun. First, Chanyeol is a lightweight. Hyoyeon hadn’t been kidding about the third beer, if the way Chanyeol’s swaying in his seat is any indication. Second, Chanyeol and Sehun seem to know everyone in town as proven by the multiple visitors they’ve had to their table, just popping by to say hello. Third, Sehun is not necessarily quiet, he’s just more tactful. He saves his words for when they can cause the most embarrassment to Chanyeol, who always seems to take it in stride.

Above all else, Baekhyun learns that everything about Chanyeol is noisy, _loud._ But Baekhyun likes loud. Loud music so pounding he can’t hear his own thoughts, laughter that echoes off the walls and makes his ribs shake. Chanyeol is like the noise Baekhyun’s sorely been missing in his time away from Seoul, and maybe it’s just the beers talking, but he can’t find it in himself to complain each time Chanyeol bellows with laughter. 

 

They find themselves two blocks down the road in a _dalkbal_ restaurant that Sehun informs him is the place all the college boys go to to hit on girls. Baekhyun’s not really interested in playing the college field, but he is interested in the way Chanyeol insists on ordering the spiciest chicken feet despite Sehun’s warning him that he always ends up regretting it. Sehun doesn’t put up much of a fight though, letting Chanyeol take the lead. When the food arrives, Baekhyun learns why. 

Chanyeol takes the first bite in stride, only coughing a little and managing to chew the entire piece. The second bite, however, launches Chanyeol into a sneezing fit that -- with limbs as gangly and twitchy as his are -- is more hilarious than it is concerning. 

“It’s too spicy for him. But enough beers and he thinks he can handle it. Every time,” Sehun fake whispers into Baekhyun’s ear and he can smell the alcohol on his breath. “The spice induced sneezing is my favorite part.”

Chanyeol blows his nose. Loudly, as expected. 

“You’re a brat,” Chanyeol mumbles from his seat. His chin dips towards his clavicle, his jaw moving lazily, unhinged from the rest of his face. The low timbre of Chanyeol’s voice contradicts the youthful roundness of his features. 

Sehun’s hands slip reaching for Baekhyun’s soju glass, sending a pair of chopsticks rolling onto the ground with a metallic thunk. No one seems to catch it aside from Baekhyun. “You love me anyway, hyung. Who else would put up with you?”

“I’ll have you know, every woman above the age of thirty-five in this town is begging for my company.” Chanyeol waves one of his arms in Sehun’s general direction, with as much authority as his intoxicated state will allow him. 

Those wouldn’t be the only women, if the looks of the college girls around them are any indication. Baekhyun’s eyes dart around the room, but it’s hard to focus on a single object. Maybe Chanyeol’s so drunk that Baekhyun’s tricked himself into thinking he’s sober in comparison. He hears the loud chatter of the tables, the sharp giggles of the college girls, and he feels the way Chanyeol unconsciously bounces his knee, shaking the table. Even alcohol isn’t enough to keep his limbs still. 

For reasons unbeknownst to Baekhyun, Chanyeol picks up yet another bite of chicken. The result is a sneezing fit so violent that not only does Chanyeol send his chopsticks flying, but a small snot bubble forms in his nose. It’s definitely the effect of the alcohol when Baekhyun erupts in an uncontrollable fit of giggles that soon has both Sehun and Chanyeol joining in. 

There are tears forming in his eyes, and it only makes Baekhyun laugh harder as Chanyeol continues to sneeze in between his loud barks of laughter.

The rest of the evening is a blur of green soju bottles, Sehun’s chuckles, and Chanyeol’s sneezing. Before he knows it, they’ve paid their tab and are walking arm in arm down the main road. The first rays of sunlight are peeking out over the tops of the buildings, the sky slowly transforming to the blue of day. 

It’s been too long since he last saw a sunrise. He wishes he was a bit more sober to appreciate it. 

“Thank you for inviting me,” Baekhyun says as they round a corner and he takes in the early hues of sunrise. “I… I needed this.” He’s always honest when drunk, words spilling out with more meaning than he wants to reveal. Another round in him, and he’d probably be clinging to Chanyeol or Sehun, professing his affection and gratitude for their company with accidental gropes and slurred words. 

“Couldn’t have you drinking alone, now could we?” Chanyeol hiccups, smiling sloppily down at Baekhyun. 

“You didn’t have to invite me because you felt sorry for me.” 

“That’s not why I invited you.” Chanyeol trips over his feet, jostling the three of them and Sehun grumbles. “It’s _culture_ , Byun. We’re the same age, we went to the same school. In a town like this, we’re friends by default.”

Before Baekhyun can reply, Sehun abruptly breaks free of his hold and turns into a back alley. Baekhyun expects Chanyeol to stop and wait for his friend, instead Chanyeol appears unfazed, continuing to pull Baekhyun along with him. 

“Should we worry about Sehun...?” Baekhyun ventures, throwing a look over his shoulder as Sehun stumbles into a random yard.

“Nah, he’s probably just puking in Mr Jung’s flowers.” Chanyeol doesn’t spare his friend a glance -- that same tilted smile on his lips as he presses forward with only Baekhyun in tow. 

“Why does this sound like it’s a regular thing?” Baekhyun giggles, leaning into Chanyeol as they round the corner. Alcohol makes skinship more acceptable, and Chanyeol is warm, sturdy. Baekhyun needs something sturdy to brave the uneven brick pathway ahead of them. 

“I can’t remember why it started exactly — other than Sehun is just a little shit — but at this point it’s tradition. Go out, get smashed, puke in Mr Jung’s flower bin. I’m honestly surprised he hasn’t been caught yet.” Chanyeol adds, "He isn’t exactly subtle.”

Chanyeol and Baekhyun grimace as they hear the distinct sound of Sehun hacking in the background. 

“Wait.” Baekhyun pauses in his tracks, “Mr. Jung, as in our middle school Morality teacher?”

“The one and only,” Chanyeol laughs freely, startling a small grandmother passing by. 

 

Baekhyun vaguely remembers parting with Chanyeol and Sehun at the turn-off onto his grandmother’s street. He has even blurrier memories of greeting his grandmother while she prepared her breakfast, before he stumbled face first into bed, fully clothed but with lips pulled into a contented smile. 

 

 

Pain. 

Pain is the only word that comes to mind when his alarm begins to go off at 10 am. He clutches the offensive device, alcohol still very much in his system and making basic motor functions difficult. His room isn’t too bright, but if the small slivers of sunlight that peek through the curtain are enough to make his head pound, then he knows he’s in for a miserable day as soon as he steps outside the confines of his bed. 

 

He stumbles into the Mini Stop on the corner, hoping to stock up on hangover medicine and a couple of coffees. Anything to make him feel human again. 

Is he still drunk? In the early throes of a hangover? He isn’t quite sure himself, but he does know his limbs are not yet cooperating to their full potential. Maybe that’s because he couldn’t be bothered to bend over and tie his laces before stepping out. 

“You look worse for wear today,” the clerk observes. His tone is flat, but he’s clearly amused with the spectacle of Baekhyun vs Fridge door in the rear of the shop.

 _Kim Minseok_ , Baekhyun’s read his name tag before. He’s never attempted small talk, though. Even if they do look about the same age. 

“Fucking Chanyeol,” he manages to grumble, his hands shaking as he sets his purchases on the counter and tries to pull the bills from his wallet. Chanyeol and his stupid easy smiles that only equate to trouble in the form of soju shots and bad decisions. 

“Park Chanyeol?” Minseok laughs, recognition crossing his features. Baekhyun notices the blue streaks in his hair for the first time under the florescent light. “Ah, man. Yeah, that explains a lot.”

“You know him?” Right. Small town. Everyone knows each other. 

Minseok nods as he bags Baekhyun’s purchases, Baekhyun swears he makes an extra effort to clank the glass bottles together. “My girlfriend works at his family’s restaurant.”

“Kim Hyoyeon-ssi?” 

“Oh, you’ve met her? Yeah.” Minseok’s smile is gummy, cute even. A complete contrast to the sadistic enjoyment he’s apparently getting out of watching Baekhyun struggle to exist this morning. “The Parks are good to her.” 

“She obviously hasn’t been taken out drinking by one of them,” Baekhyun grumbles. The small counter space is becoming a very tempting surface to rest his head on the longer he stares at it. 

“Oh, believe me she has. But if there’s anyone who can drink you under the table, it’s Hyoyeon.” The affectionate glimmer of pride in Minseok’s eyes makes Baekhyun’s stomach do funny things. Funnier than it’s already doing with the hangover. 

 

 

 

Baekhyun chases Chanyeol -- and his shit-eating grin -- out of the Kimbap shop later that afternoon, threateningly waving a set of chopsticks all the while. Chanyeol squeals as he makes off with his tuna roll -- thanks to Miss Lee and _not_ Baekhyun -- and Baekhyun can hear his boisterous laughter echoing down the road. 

Chanyeol’s disappearance is soon followed by a text message. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
When you’re no longer hungover and contemplating my murder, consider coming out with us Friday night. Baseball + beer, you can’t go wrong. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
We promise to go easy. You can leave the chopsticks at home. 

 

Baekhyun has never been so thankful for the middle finger emoji before. 

 

 

“ _So, how goes small town life?_ ” Joonmyun asks through the receiver. Baekhyun imagines him walking around his messy apartment, phone wedged between his ear and shoulder as he gathers his laundry.

“It’s still small, still boring,” Baekhyun states plainly. “Though I went out last night with some former classmates.”

“ _Oh? Rekindling lost friendships?_ ”

“It’s hard to rekindle a friendship that never existed. But, when times are hard, you take the company you can get.” It feels a little wrong to write off Chanyeol and Sehun so casually. Especially when they’re the ones reaching out to him. However, he’s hungover and still a little grumpy. Joonmyun won’t judge him. 

“ _Fair enough. When are you going to travel up to Seoul for some proper company, then?_ ”

“As soon as possible. Joonmyun, I’m _dying_ here. It’s so… quiet." Well, everything _was_ quiet, until Chanyeol came barging through the kimbap shop’s doors yesterday. That’s hardly enough to constitute a permanent change, though. 

Joonmyun’s melodic laugh echoes through the receiver. Baekhyun misses hearing it in person -- up close -- when there was nothing else on their mind other than where the next drink would be had and who was crashing on whose floor. 

“ _It can’t be that bad, Baekhyun._ "

“Says the man who’s lived in Gangnam his whole life, who has a full-time job, and sees the country as ‘ _a lovely break from the hustle and bustle of city life._ ’"

“ _Is it not?_ "

“Not when you’re _from_ here. Not… not when you don’t know when you’re leaving.”

* * *

With the disappearance of his hangover, so also disappears his desire to bring pain to Chanyeol. Well, most of it at least. He finds himself responding to Chanyeol’s text Friday morning, asking if the invitation still stands. He needs some noise to break the quiet doldrums of early summer.

Chanyeol’s reply puts a smile on his face.

 **From: Chanyeol**  
Do you even have to ask? First pitch is at 6:35. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
I’m serious about leaving the chopsticks at home.

 

 

This time, Sehun brings along another friend from campus, Kim Jongin. Jongin is sunkissed and quiet, much like Sehun, but with a laugh that rivals Chanyeol’s in volume once he gets going. His expression lingers somewhere between a brooding smoulder and perpetual sleepiness, until Chanyeol makes him laugh and his features come to life. 

The routine is much the same as the other night -- Beer Warehouse, bottled beer, Chanyeol ruffling Sehun’s hair and Baekhyun taking shots at Chanyeol’s fashion sense at every opportunity. His pants are maroon today, his upper body hidden beneath a slightly more age appropriate black hoodie. 

It’s strange how easily he falls into a groove with the group. Even with so much unfamiliarity between them, there’s something so welcoming about the environment -- Baekhyun doesn’t know if he should credit that to Chanyeol’s friendly smiles and familiar touches, or to the alcohol. 

Maybe it’s a bit of both. 

It’s been a long time since Baekhyun has had to navigate the tepid territory of new friendships. He met Joonmyun the first week of undergrad when they were assigned to the same dorm room. It had been an awkward couple months of getting to know each other before they really became _friends_. 

That’s why Chanyeol and Sehun fascinate him. They don’t act as if anything is out of the ordinary. While Baekhyun’s mentally fumbling about trying to figure out where to fit into the group, they treat him as if he’s always been there. Jongin is surprised to learn that they’ve only been acquainted a week with the way Chanyeol already has an arm around the back of Baekhyun’s chair and Sehun doesn’t hesitate to take sips from Baekhyun’s beer when his own runs out. Baekhyun even surprises himself with how quickly he’s taken to teasing Chanyeol, to babying Sehun.

Chanyeol appears to be pacing himself better this evening, his eyes glued to the baseball game on the screen as he stuffs complimentary popcorn into his mouth. Unsurprisingly to Baekhyun, the Eagles are down by five in the seventh inning, and Chanyeol sulks with his beer bottle. 

It’s kind of captivating how quickly Chanyeol can go from over-excited giant, to sulky teenager in the span of a few minutes. All this before coming right back to life when Sehun brings up a space he had seen for rent in town. 

Perfect for the cafe. 

Baekhyun keeps any negative comments at bay. He still feels guilty about what he had said -- not so much the question itself, more the tone he had used unwillingly. He remembers the quick flash of disappointment that had crossed Chanyeol’s eyes, and doesn’t want to be the cause of that again. So instead, he appreciates the way Sehun’s eyes light up with excitement as he shares the news; as he describes the small shop and how it’s basically exactly what they’ve been looking for. 

When was the last time his own eyes had lit up like that?

 

They leave after a disappointing ninth inning, the Hanwha Eagles losing by four runs. 

Jongin’s been relatively quiet for the evening, mostly sticking to playing on his phone. With the noise of the bar behind them, he seems more at ease with speaking up. 

“I’m disappointed in how tame tonight was. I was kind of looking forward to watching you two creek wrestle again.”

“What?” Baekhyun’s intrigued. 

Chanyeol glowers at Jongin, who makes no move to retract his statement. If anything, he seems more eager to share. 

“Sometimes Sehun and Chanyeol hyung get too drunk and have wrestling showdowns in the town creek,” he informs Baekhyun. 

Sehun pushes his broad chest out in some show of hyper masculinity. He’s thin as a stick, but clearly defined beneath his thin t-shirt. “An impressive array of strength, if I do say so myself. Two shirtless men, a river --” 

“The creek is barely a foot deep…”

Chanyeol jumps in too, “Muscles, grunting…”

“More like slapping and the occasional drunken kick that completely misses the mark…”

“Hey now.” Chanyeol’s expression turns serious once again, and Jongin doesn’t pay it any mind. He’s too busy laughing to himself, most likely imagining the scene in his mind. 

“You’ve never watched yourself, hyung. I wouldn’t call it real wrestling by any means. But it certainly is entertaining. Two lanky men, flailing about in the river, throwing kindergarten insults at each other while slurring. It’s true art.”

Chanyeol flexes his arm in playful warning, though it’s difficult to see any muscle mass beneath the bulky sleeves of his hoodie. “I’ll have you know, these arms are very strong.” Baekhyun has a feeling Jongin is going to find himself in the creek soon, if he takes any more shots at Chanyeol.

“Sure, from picking yourself up off the ground after you trip over another rock.” He artfully avoids Chanyeol’s attempt at a headlock, placing Sehun between himself and Chanyeol.

“Who usually wins?” Baekhyun distracts, earning an approving nod from Jongin. 

“That would be me,” Sehun beams, “I’m currently at five to his three matches.”

“Maybe you’ll take on Chanyeol hyung sometime,” Sehun says to Baekhyun. The words are accompanied by a cool hand to his abdomen. Baekhyun gasps. “Ooh, he has abs. Yup. You’d be a goner, Chanyeol.”

“I’m not wrestling anyone in the creek.” Last time he checked, the town creek was by no means _clean_. Nope. None for Baekhyun. 

The glint in Jongin’s eyes is more mischievous than reassuring. “You say that now, but with three bottles of soju and Chanyeol’s puppy eyes, you’ll be singing a different tune.”

They part ways at the corner with promises of next time. 

_Next time_ doesn’t sound too bad, either. 

 

He doesn’t feel tired when he returns to his grandmother’s apartment half an hour later. So in lieu of getting ready for bed, he tugs out his laptop and drawing tablet. He doesn’t hear his mother’s nagging voice when he opens a new illustration file and begins to sketch the outline of Chanyeol’s arm playfully wrapped around Sehun as they took turns making Jongin blush over his crush on their class president. 

It’s the first digital sketch he’s made in months, and it’s far from perfect. But, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he’s accomplished something as he stares at the small bump in Chanyeol’s nose, the taut tug of Sehun’s lips that he wants to catch just right. 

Maybe tomorrow he’ll fill in the color; try to capture the green and purple LED lights, the blue shadows on the wall, and the splatter of beer across the table.

* * *

“ _It’s been a whole week since you called me complaining about the smell of manure and or cucumbers. I take it you made new friends? Or did your Grandma finally get you hooked on the morning dramas she watches?_ ”

It’s Baekhyun’s Monday afternoon break. It’s been a slow day so far, Miss Lee might even let him off early. 

“I’ve found some company.” He takes another drag of his cigarette and exhales into the receiver. “I ran into Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun. Remember them?” 

“ _Chanyeol, ‘you should really join ferret club’ Park Chanyeol?_ ” Jongdae’s tone is incredulous. 

“That’s the one.” 

“ _I guess it makes sense he’d still be around. You missed high school with Park, but as I’m sure you’ve noticed, he certainly isn’t a chubby ferret boy anymore._ ” Baekhyun can practically hear the way Jongdae’s eyebrows wiggle.

“Tell me about it.” Baekhyun has spent the better part of the weekend trying not to think about how firm Chanyeol’s hand had felt against his knee, how warm his breath was when laced with alcohol. It’s nothing but a physical reaction, Baekhyun knows. Chanyeol is attractive, anyone with eyes would know that. It doesn’t have to mean anything. 

It _doesn’t_ mean anything.

“ _Interesting,_ ” Jongdae muses, and Baekhyun can already feel trouble brewing.

* * *

April quickly turns into May, the rice fields are planted and the garden patches all over town are slowly turning more green with life each day. The changing colors also signal that the summer heat is coming, and Baekhyun dreads the dead of summer humidity that he knows will soon swallow the town whole with its mugginess.

Thankfully, Kimbap Cheonguk has a very powerful AC, so he knows he won’t suffer too much in the coming months. 

Hopefully though, he’ll be out of town soon. Be back where he wants to be and not mindlessly filling orders and offering only half-genuine smiles to patrons. 

Ever since their first night out a couple weeks ago, Chanyeol has made a habit of popping into Kimbap Cheonguk for lunch a couple days a week. Baekhyun can’t say he minds, Chanyeol has a sixth sense for knowing when Baekhyun is bored out his of mind, and the company is more than welcome. 

Chanyeol likes to rattle off about the happenings in town, he always seems to know everyone’s business and wants to keep Baekhyun in the loop. It’s nice to feel included, even if most of the names mean nothing to Baekhyun. Miss Lee, Baekhyun soon discovers, also loves to slip Chanyeol free food every time he compliments her hair. 

It’s truly admirable how purely _charming_ Chanyeol is no matter who it is he interacts with -- though it mostly seems to be ahjummas he chooses to exercise said charms on. Sure, Baekhyun can turn on a smile, throw in a quick quip, but it’s always missing the sincerity Chanyeol manages to pack into every observation he makes. 

Maybe Seoul hardened Baekhyun more than he originally thought. 

It’s one such afternoon when Chanyeol leans across the prep counter with a determined look on his face.

“Tomorrow is Children’s day.” 

Ah yes, Children’s Day. A public holiday with lots of town festivities and people milling about. Baekhyun was surprised when Miss Lee told him he could take the day off. (He then was sulky when she told him it was because he’s still a kid in her heart.) 

“The town will be so busy with the festival. I think it might be fun to escape for a few hours. Do you want to come hiking with me?”

Baekhyun raises a brow. “You want me to spend Children’s day with an overgrown child?” 

“Hey! That’s Sehun, not me.” The petulant expression on his face says otherwise. 

“Really?”

“You haven’t heard him whine yet. Believe me, if anyone’s the baby, it’s Sehun. He once stole all the covers when he was sleeping over and then yelled at me for trying to take them back, claiming ‘ _no one should steal the blankets from the baby, it’s not fair, hyung_.’”

Baekhyun giggles to himself. It’s entirely too easy to picture all six feet of Sehun pouting like a baby while Chanyeol sulks. Chanyeol having the obvious weak spot he does for his friend, would of course give him whatever he wants. 

The more time he spends with the pair, the more he’s noticed how Chanyeol will complain and chide, but he never says no to Sehun. 

“Don’t laugh! It was the middle of December and I was _freezing_. I had to relocate to the floor to be closer to the ondol, that little brat.”

Chanyeol’s offended face only makes Baekhyun laugh harder, but he ultimately agrees to Chanyeol’s invitation. He hasn’t gone hiking in ages, anyway.

* * *

“Nice ride.”

Chanyeol pats the blue metal of the driver side door affectionately. “Thanks. It was my dad’s,” He says with pride -- and maybe a hint of something else. “Hop in.”

He had told him he would provide the transportation, but Baekhyun hardly expected to be greeted with a navy blue truck -- the kind with a two person cab and tiny wheels that are popular with construction workers the county over. It’s unexpected, but it’s also so completely _Chanyeol_ , that Baekhyun can’t help but shake his head. 

Chanyeol drives much like the way he talks: excitably with his hand on the gear shift and his foot eagerly pressing the gas pedal. It’s not dangerous, per se. Yet, Baekhyun is very thankful to be wearing a seatbelt as Chanyeol accelerates through traffic on the narrow back road towards the mountain. 

Town is far behind them, and fields upon fields of rice laid out before them. Little sprouts are beginning to peek through the rows of the paddies now; Baekhyun can almost smell the sweet scent rising from the crops -- so familiar and nostalgic after years away. 

With the breeze rolling in through the window, it’s easy enough to close his eyes and take a stroll down memory lane, back to a time when these fields were like a calendar for him: April, the farmers are busy flooding the fields, filling them with seeds and water; May, the sprouts peek through; June, they extend higher, turning the whole paddy deep green with life; July, they’ll begin to bend in the wind;. August, little seeds finally making themselves known at the top of the stock. September, the green fades into a yellow that catches the sun. Baekhyun always felt a little sad after the harvest, when the rows were bare brown, lifeless -- but the meals his grandmother prepared for Chuseok always filled the emptiness with a different kind of pleasure. 

The gears grind when Chanyeol tries to shift and it pulls Baekhyun’s attention back to the current, his eyes moving away from the window to take a good look at his companion. (Admittedly, he’s been studying him a lot already.)

He’s wearing flannel today with the usual hiking pants -- colorful and offensive as ever. His hand firmly grips the gear shift like it’s the most natural place for it to be. He drives like he knows this road, like he could close his eyes and not miss a single curve. 

“I never learned to drive,” Baekhyun voices to himself. He doesn’t need to fill the quiet between them -- the trot songs on the radio combined with the roar of the truck’s engine provide more than enough noise to keep him content -- but his thoughts keep coming. “Living in Seoul, you don’t really have to. There’s always a taxi or subway to take you where you need to go….”

“That’s a shame.” They wind another curve and the breeze ruffles Chanyeol’s brown hair in a new direction, hairs flying wildly against the roof of the cab. “There’s something so liberating about being able to get in your car and go for a drive at the end of a long day.”

“Where do you even have to go in a town this small?” 

“It’s not always about _going somewhere_.” The car lurches as he shifts gears once more. “It’s more about the freedom of wandering, the time alone to clear your head. For me, at least.”

It’s funny how Chanyeol clears his head with quiet open roads, while Baekhyun’s escape from the world has always involved noise, clubs, alcohol. Anything to drown out his thoughts. How nice it must be to be completely content with the thoughts in your own mind -- to not fear being left alone with them. 

“My dad used to take us on drives when we were little; when my sister and I got too antsy to sit in the restaurant until close. It didn’t matter where we were going, it was just nice to sit with him, sing along to the radio, poke our hands out the window and feel the breeze.” Chanyeol’s smile is so, so warm as he recalls the memories. Baekhyun hopes he doesn’t feel him staring somewhat in awe. “ I don’t know, I guess the ritual rubbed off on me. I still go for drives every now and then, to clear my head.”

The nostalgic look in Chanyeol’s eyes has Baekhyun smiling along enviously. Chanyeol’s relives his memories with more conviction than Baekhyun’s ever expressed for anything. How does everything he shares feel so inviting? Like a blanket of warmth that adds to the already rising temperatures of May and makes Baekhyun feel content?

“That sounds…. Really nice,” he comments more to himself than Chanyeol. He never went for rides. When there was downtime as a kid, he was studying. That’s what he was always expected to do. 

“I could teach you, if you want.” Chanyeol looks over at him as the road before them straightens out. 

“Huh?” 

“To drive. You have a lot of downtime, I have a car. It could be fun.”

“You trust me with your car?” Joonmyun won’t even let Baekhyun handle his car keys. 

Chanyeol barks with laughter. “I trust myself to teach you how to drive. In a very safe space, with no traffic. I’m not going to hand over the keys and let you loose or anything.” 

Chanyeol’s laughter is contagious, much like his temperament. 

“I’d really like that, actually.” Maybe once he’s back in Seoul he can get his driver’s license, even a car. Maybe he can have the freedom to unwind in the way Chanyeol makes sound so relaxing. 

“Then it’s a date.” 

 

 

Oseo-san is a formidable opponent of steep terrain, trees, and dozens upon dozens of stairs. It’s no easy feat even for an experienced hiker, and Baekhyun takes pride in the fact that he isn’t out of breath as they reach the halfway mark. All that time in the gym in Seoul certainly paid off -- at least for his legs. 

Chanyeol -- on the other hand -- is straggling behind, obviously out of breath but trying to save face with a stern scrunch of his eyebrows and a focused look in his eyes. Baekhyun sees right through it and wants to laugh, this had been Chanyeol’s suggestion, after all. 

It’s at the resting point at the top of the stair portion of the trail where Chanyeol finally gives in to his fatigue, collapsing onto the nearest rock with the soundtrack of his own strained heaving.

“I can’t believe you suggested hiking and you’re already out of breath before we reach the real trail... You have the endurance of a senior citizen. I take everything I’ve said back, you deserve to wear those pants.” Baekhyun pulls a water bottle from his bag to pass to the lump that is Chanyeol. 

“Excuse. You.” Chanyeol says in two separate, gaspy breaths. There’s a flush against the apples of his cheeks, and Baekhyun’s eyes follow the trail of sweat along his hairline. Chanyeol’s adam’s apple bobs with each gulp of water and the movement is oddly mesmerizing in the mid morning sunlight. “I’m doing fine. Plus, not all of us have thunder thighs.” 

The remark breaks Baekhyun’s daze, pulling him back to the playful glint in Chanyeol’s eyes. He scowls. “I’m going to ignore that remark. But seriously, you’re wheezing more than the asthmatic hamster I had when I was nine.” 

“Your hamster had asthma?” 

Baekhyun laughs at how the insult rolls off Chanyeol -- he’s probably used to being the target of insults with the way Sehun and Jongin can get going. Of course the former president of the ferret club would be more curious about the rodent than he would be in preserving his own ego. “You ready to go yet? We still have about 300 meters to go.”

Chanyeol throws a wary look up the trail, and Baekhyun smiles before beginning the final ascent. 

 

They’re sitting on the steps of the summit's lookout an hour later. Chanyeol’s breathing has almost returned to normal, but the flush of his cheeks is still very much present. They can see the town below them in the distance, all the buildings looking like dots among the green of the rice fields. 

Chanyeol’s hand is on his knee, and Baekhyun knows that’s kind of to be expected; if someone is within range to touch, Chanyeol’s hand will be there. What Baekhyun doesn’t anticipate is the way that same touch calms his racing mind, settles him only in the present and distracts him from the job listings tab he had left open on his laptop that morning, and the unsettling feeling that maybe he’s becoming too comfortable in a place he needs to escape from before it traps him forever. 

Chanyeol breaks the silence first. 

“Are you willing to tell me why you’re actually back in town?” he asks quietly, without any indication that he expects an answer.

Baekhyun sighs. “I… didn’t get a job after graduation. My mother essentially sent me here as punishment and free labor at the family business.” 

Chanyeol nods, but doesn’t press any further. It’s nice, how Chanyeol never pushes him. He suggests, he’s bold enough to ask, but he never pushes. It makes it all the easier to share things with the man he hardly knows. Like somehow, Baekhyun’s secrets aren’t Chanyeol’s to share and he won’t. 

Baekhyun, too, has a few questions of his own. “Your turn. Tell me why you invited me out that first night.”

Chanyeol’s features scrunch up for a moment and he takes a drink of water to collect his thoughts. 

“You looked… sad? I don’t know. Like there was somewhere else you’d rather be. My sister used to look like that, right after...” Chanyeol trails off, shaking away the darkness in his eyes. “I know that look. Gwangcheon might not be much, but I knew that maybe Sehun and I could distract you for a bit.”

“Get me drunk,” Baekhyun corrects.

“That too.” He winks. “I can recognize loneliness when I see it. I wasn’t taking pity on you or anything, I told you, we’re friends by default. Just needed to get you out of Kimbap Cheonguk and remind you that it is possible to have fun in Gwangcheon.”

Chanyeol really loves his hometown, Baekhyun can see it in his eyes, _hear_ the smile in his voice when he talks about the place. Maybe a bit of that affection is rubbing off on Baekhyun, he realizes as he smiles towards the valley below him, imagining all the little ahjummas manning their produce stands in the market, the grumpy flower salesman who heckles anyone who so much as brushes one of his display shrubberies. It’s a town full of characters, that’s for sure.

He should expect the arm that wraps around his shoulder, Chanyeol really wasn’t kidding about personal space -- if the multiple butt slaps on the way up the mountain were any indication. Baekhyun’s already warm and sweaty from the hike, but the arm feels nice. It grounds him in some way, a feeling of acceptance bubbles up inside of him. 

Baekhyun acknowledges that Chanyeol could really be a good friend. It’s not often you click with someone as easily as Baekhyun does with Chanyeol. 

If they’re going to be friends, that means Baekhyun needs to get something off his chest first. 

“I’m sorry about what I said, about your ‘baby’.” It was only a temporary flash of hurt he’d seen in Chanyeol’s eyes that night -- so momentary he could have imagined it. Yet, it’s replayed in his mind every evening since, digging deeper in his bones and making him feel more guilty each time Chanyeol casually steers conversation away from the cafe. 

“What?” Chanyeol looks genuinely confused for a moment. “Oh, that? It was nothing. No hard feelings.”

“You know that feeling when words just slip out, and they feel like they aren’t even your own? Like they’re something programmed inside of you, and you can’t stop them?”

“I suppose so, yeah.”

“It’s weird. Being here, being back. More and more I’m realizing how often it feels like I’m not even the one speaking sometimes.”

“Maybe you need to ask yourself whose words you’re saying,” Chanyeol offers. Baekhyun knows already, and maybe Chanyeol does, too. “Ask yourself why you’re saying them in the first place.” 

The air is silent between them as Chanyeol’s words sink into Baekhyun’s gut. He forces a laugh. 

“When did this conversation get so heavy?” he teases, hesitantly. “Usually I save these kinds of chats for when I’ve had a few too many.”

“I was hoping for a good segue,” Chanyeol says cryptically. The arm around his shoulder is gone in favor of scouring through his backpack. “Don’t worry, I brought reinforcements,” Chanyeol boasts, producing two bottles of makoli from his backpack. 

“So, you made me hike to the top of the mountain to get drunk and pour my heart out? I’m onto you, Park.”

“I did nothing of the sort. Everyone knows you drink at the summit.” Chanyeol points his thumb over at the two ahjussis doing exactly that at the far end of the porch. “It’s only a small gesture of celebration.” 

Baekhyun takes the small paper cup Chanyeol offers him with a roll of his eyes. 

“I don’t want to get drunk and fall to my death down that incline. With the way _your_ gangly limbs slipped every ten meters, I don’t think you need too much else in your system aside from water,” he warns, taking only a small sip to appease Chanyeol. 

“I’m not forcing you.” And no, Baekhyun thinks, Chanyeol isn’t the type to push. 

“I do want you to tell me about your cafe, though,” he adds as an afterthought, turning the subject away from the descent they still have to complete even though his knees are screaming for more rest. More than anything, he wants Chanyeol’s eyes to light up the way they had that night, watch his lips stretch over his teeth as his eyes flare more with each sentence. 

And Chanyeol does. Well, mostly Chanyeol talks about books, how much he loves collecting them, how he wants to share them with people. He plans to keep a mini library in the cafe, have weekly storytime for children. Coffee and books go hand in hand, according to Chanyeol. Opening a coffee shop is the best of both for him, everything he wants in one place, with his best friend and him at the helm. 

His words are so sure, so concrete. He’s not thinking about profit margins or franchising, he’s only concerned with sharing things he enjoys with those around him. 

“What will you name it?”

“ _Jingnyeo._ ” Chanyeol supplies instantly. 

“‘The Weaver Girl?’” Odd name. 

“You’ve never heard the story of _Chilseok_?”

“I have, but I don’t remember it.”

“Ah. Long ago, there was a Sky King who had a lovely, but lonely daughter named Jingnyeo. So he found her a husband, Gyeonu the cow herder. It was a match made in heaven, literally.”

“But they were separated somehow, right?” All folk tales follow the same formula. What use is there in telling a story without obstacles.

“Right. They fell madly in love, but in so doing, they neglected their work. She stopped weaving, he forgot to look after the herds. The Sky King became enraged and separated them across the Milky Way.”

“That’s kind of sad. Really sad, actually. Why would you name your cafe after something so depressing?” 

“Well, they’re reunited once a year, on Chilseok. So it’s not all sad. It’s a story of enduring love, even across the galaxy. Yes, there’s longing, but there’s also immeasurable joy on the day they meet.” 

It makes sense. “So why name your cafe after it?”

“It’s my mother’s favorite folk tale, she told it to us all the time when we were small.”

“I’ll have to go read the full story, I guess.” He hasn’t thought about folk tales in a long time, maybe it’s time to change that. 

“You should.” Chanyeol winks, sneaking Baekhyun’s paper cup from his hand and refilling it. 

“Wait, are you actually trying to get me drunk?” Baekhyun asks, scandalized.

An impish grin spreads across Chanyeol’s face. “The more we drink here, the better mood you’ll be in on the way down, and the more likely I’ll be to get you to agree to noraebang. I’m anxious to see if you’re a drunk ballad or rock song type of guy.” 

Baekhyun punches Chanyeol’s arm with an angry pout before his smile betrays him. Chanyeol’s mirroring smile shines a little too bright for Baekhyun to wrap his mind around.

So, he turns his eyes to the sprawling valley below them. 

For the first time in what feels like ages, Baekhyun doesn’t mind the quiet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is part one. comments and such would be most encouraging.


	3. My momma always told me there'd be boys like you

On weeknights when she’s in, Baekhyun’s grandma’s routine consists of preparing entirely too much food -- cucumber free -- and using it to bribe Baekhyun into watching dramas with her. He doesn’t mind so much. She has someone to share her commentary with, he has time to sketch and unwind. It’s comfortable, far more welcoming than when he had tried to work in his mother’s apartment. His grandmother never attempts to peek over his shoulder, she even cheers him on with how hard he’s working. 

They’ve just gotten through the evening news when Baekhyun’s phone buzzes next to him on the floor. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
Are you free right now? 

There’s something I want to show you. 

**To: Chanyeol**  
I’m free. Where should I meet you?

 **From: Chanyeol**  
It’s a surprise, so I’ll meet you at the corner of your apartment block. 

**To: Chanyeol**  
See you in twenty?

“Hey Grandma, I’m going to go out for a bit,” Baekhyun says as he closes his laptop and begins to clean up. 

She turns her attention away from the television. “Oh? Made some friends in town?”

Friends. He supposes that’s what they’ve become. You don’t hike mountains and get drunk at the summit with strangers, after all.

“Just meeting one friend tonight. Park Chanyeol.” 

Her eyes instantly flash with recognition as an approving smile forms on her face. “Park Chanyeol? His family went through a rough time a few years ago. But he’s always smiling.” She nods to herself. “ I like that boy.” 

Baekhyun almost says ‘me too’ but catches himself. It’s not that he doesn’t like Chanyeol, he does, but the words leaving his mouth could hold a different meaning. One that he doesn’t really think suits his relationship with Chanyeol. They’re temporary friends at best. 

 

Baekhyun almost regrets leaving the comfortable A/C of his grandmother’s apartment as soon as he steps outside. It’s only mid-May, but the summer humidity is already moving in. He laments leaving with a light jacket, as it obviously isn’t necessary. Chanyeol seems to be better prepared for the weather, as he leads Baekhyun through the streets of downtown in only a tank top and jeans. His grin is even larger than usual and Baekhyun hopes it isn’t because he catches him eying his biceps as they make their way to uptown. 

Chanyeol won’t give any tells as to where he’s taking them. No matter how much Baekhyun presses, he just shows him more teeth, tightens the arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, and tells him to be patient. 

Not before long, they’re in front of the glass door of an empty store space in uptown. and Chanyeol stops to proudly declare, “This is it!”

Baekhyun’s brows furrow. “This is what, exactly?” 

From the looks of it, it’s an abandoned box: big glass windows, concrete floors, remnant bits of paper and nails from its previous occupants littering the floor. 

“This…” Chanyeol produces a key from his front pocket and moves to unlock the door. “...is our cafe. Or at least it will be.” 

Baekhyun enters first, surveying the space with curious eyes once Chanyeol flips on the florescent light. It’s small, open, and completely empty. There’s patches of paint on the walls, marks where previous pieces of furniture had scratched against them. It’s… not much, but there’s promise in the gleam of Chanyeol’s eyes that tell him it’s going to be something special once he and Sehun are done with it. 

There isn’t a lot to move around and take in, but Baekhyun goes through the motions anyway. He figures the space can hold about twenty or so guests -- nothing huge. Chanyeol is more the type for intimate settings anyway, that way he can alternate conversations with every patron seamlessly. 

“What do you think?” There’s a hot breath in his ear, he turns to see Chanyeol worrying his lip between his teeth, waiting for an answer.

“It’s…. empty,” he answers honestly. Chanyeol can read the smile on his face to know it’s not a criticism. “When do you plan on opening?”

“August eighth,” Chanyeol provides almost instantly. 

“That’s a very specific date.” It’s only a couple months away, it seems a bit ambitious. 

“I have my reasons.” Chanyeol gives a secretive smile. “Remember the story of Chilseok?” Baekhyun nods. “The two lovers only meet one day a year: the seventh day of the seventh month on the Lunar calendar.”

“Which this year is…”

“August eighth.”

Baekhyun hums. Of course Chanyeol would have it all planned out to a t. This is his baby, after all. 

“Now, let me give you a tour.” 

_A tour of what?_ Baekhyun wants to ask, but he holds his tongue. Chanyeol’s genuine excitement doesn’t deserve his snark right now. Not when he’s already bouncing on his heels with eagerness.

Like a proud tour guide, Chanyeol gestures Baekhyun towards the back of the space. His hand curves so easily against the small of Baekhyun’s back. Maybe too naturally. 

“Here, will be the main counter, register, espresso machine, the works. We’re still deciding on wood and stains and such.” Baekhyun nods along as Chanyeol points to a small closet, “This is the pantry, refrigerator area.” 

Baekhyun tries to peek in, but Chanyeol stops him. “Ah ah ah, Staff Only.”

It’s not that Baekhyun’s desperate to see what’s inside an empty closet or anything, but plays along and pouts before sticking out his tongue. As expected, it makes Chanyeol’s eyes crinkle even more than they already had been. 

Chanyeol proceeds to lead Baekhyun around the empty space, talking about tables and color schemes. It’s not much, but it will be. Someday soon this place will be everything Chanyeol’s dreamed about, and the excitement rubs off on Baekhyun. Soon, he’s smiling along, imagining everything in perfect detail as Chanyeol rattles off a whole list of inventory he’s unfamiliar with. 

“You know,” Chanyeol begins when they’re seated on the cement floor a few minutes later. There’s no furniture to accommodate them, but Baekhyun has a feeling Chanyeol wants to linger a bit, bask in the fact that a cafe space is finally his, and that’s why they haven’t ventured somewhere else to chat. “You’re the first person I’ve shown it to since we officially signed the lease yesterday.”

Baekhyun is flattered, and also curious why Chanyeol chose _him_ of all people to share this with. 

“To what do I owe the honor?” he asks. 

Chanyeol’s grin tilts to the side. “No real reason. I just thought you should see it. I _wanted_ you to see it. It makes it more real, you know? Sharing it with someone.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know how to respond to the earnest look in Chanyeol’s eyes. He watches as Chanyeol’s fingers trace against the cool cement floor in mindless patterns, like he’s feeling the space and confirming its his. He’s probably committing it to memory -- how the space is now -- while simultaneously thinking about how he can transform it. 

There’s a pause before Chanyeol draws a more hesitant breath. “I also thought if I showed you first, then it would make it more appropriate to officially ask if you wanted to help out. You know, with getting the place ready.”

“Me?” Baekhyun knows his way around a design studio, Photoshop, InDesign… he hardly has a clue how to operate power tools. 

Chanyeol hums in agreement, seemingly appreciating Baekhyun’s confusion. “I’ve been recruiting people for a few months. Established a good team so far, if I do say so myself. But… we still need someone to work on branding and menu design and such. I figured you’d be the perfect person for the job.”

Baekhyun briefly wonders if that’s the only reason Chanyeol has befriended him so eagerly. He quickly pushes the thought aside though when he remembers their chat on the mountain. Chanyeol is just… friendly. He wants everyone to be included. 

He wants _Baekhyun_ to be included. 

Excited jitters take over his gut. “I’d… I’d love to.” And he means it. “But, you haven’t ever seen my work? You don’t even know if I’m good.”

Chanyeol chuckles, his thumb reaching to rub the dent of Baekhyun’s shoulder. “What can I say? I trust you,” he says, completely serious. “I have faith in you.” 

If Baekhyun weren’t already sitting down, he’d be knocked on his ass with the words; with the way Chanyeol says them with such conviction. It’s perplexing and pleasing all at the same time. The look Chanyeol gives him is even more striking, like he wants Baekhyun to know just how much he means what he says. 

“So what do you say? I’ll pay you, of course.” Baekhyun’s eyes drop to the nervous tug of Chanyeol’s bottom lip. 

Baekhyun is nothing more than a temporary figure in Chanyeol’s life, someone here only briefly before he moves on. And yet, Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate to put his trust in him…

He doesn’t have to think about it before answering. “I say... I’m in. My first official job.” 

Nothing could prepare Baekhyun for the excited hug Chanyeol immediately pulls him into. 

“ _Thank you, Byun_.”

* * *

With only a little over two months to get everything ready, work on the cafe begins as soon as possible. Sehun texts Baekhyun to meet at the cafe after his shift at Kimbap Cheonguk to meet the rest of the staff and to draft a tentative labor schedule for everyone involved.

He knows he should have expected to see Minseok’s face among the small group Chanyeol’s assembled, his arm wrapped around Hyoyeon as she leans into his side. 

“I should have known you would be here,” Minseok teases, echoing Baekhyun’s thoughts. “If Chanyeol could work you into such a hungover state that morning, I’m sure he’d be able to convince you to labor for him.”

Baekhyun laughs, reaching to formally introduce himself to Minseok before Hyoyeon comes in to hug him. “Nice to see you again, Baekhyun-ssi.”

“Just Baekhyun is fine, really.” 

“Baekhyun, then.” She smiles. “I see you know my boyfriend, Minseok. And have you met Jongin?”

Hearing his name, Jongin gives a nod and a “Hey, Hyung,” to Baekhyun that answers Hyoyeon’s question. 

“Seems like you’re already part of the group.” She swats his shoulder. “I knew Chanyeol wouldn’t waste any time indoctrinating you.” 

“I’m convinced Chanyeol is making the most of student labor,” Minseok chimes in, tone far from accusatory, more amused as he watches Chanyeol and Sehun fake bicker in the rear of the cafe space. 

“Hush hush, you’re just being a friend,” Hyoyeon chides, and Minseok’s grimace instantly softens. 

“There were also promises of free food,” Jongin points out. He’s a college student, of course he’d be here for the free food. 

“ _I_ was not promised food.” Minseok’s eyes narrow. “What is this Chanyeol?” he shouts moments later, knowing Chanyeol’s been listening in the whole time.

“Unfair labor practices!” Sehun shouts from out back.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Chanyeol throws up his hands defensively, backing away from the scrutiny of Minseok’s eyes. The man may be smaller than Chanyeol, but he’s infinitely more terrifying. “Everyone gets food. Jongin, stop making trouble before we’ve even started.”

“Yes boss,” Jongin mocks. 

There’s so much to be done, Baekhyun learns as Chanyeol drafts a rough work schedule: ordering parts, cutting wood, painting, electrical work, minor plumbing improvements. To top it all off, there’s also all the decorating, which Baekhyun is pretty sure Chanyeol has no idea how to handle, based solely on the color combinations of his wardrobe (stretchy running pants today, patterned with checkers). 

Apparently, Minseok is training to become an electrician, making him essentially the only qualified member of the team to handle power tools. Jongin is entirely too excited at the prospect of handling said tools though, and Baekhyun is more than a little wary. Hyoyeon has worked in a coffee shop before, so she’s happy to help set up the main counter and teach Sehun how to operate all the machinery. 

A strange feeling of pride hits him when Chanyeol scribbles ‘Baekhyun’ next to ‘logo and menu design.’ Chanyeol throws him a quick questioning glance, tucking his lip beneath his teeth nervously. 

‘ _Is that okay?’_ He seems to double check, not wanting to force anything on Baekhyun that he doesn’t want to do.

Baekhyun can only nod, holding back his own smile. Chanyeol has no hesitations in trusting something so important to someone he’s only known for a couple of weeks. 

 

 

With the cafe plan officially in the works, it’s time for Baekhyun to re-visit the story of Chilseok. Chanyeol’s re-telling was too short, and he knows he can glean more inspiration from the story itself. This being his first real job, he wants to get it right. He wants to capture some of the passion Chanyeol has for the story, the tug of longing and heartbreak that make it so personal. He wants to do Chanyeol’s ‘baby’ justice. 

In her loneliness, Baekhyun can identify with Jingnyeo, the Sky King’s daughter. She weaves happily, but there’s something missing in her heart. Baekhyun sees the first shades of color when she finds her match -- her _love_ \-- in Gyeonu. The cow herder fills her days with happiness, they fall hopelessly into one another. Warm yellows and pinks swirl around them, clouding their world, allowing them to see only each other. 

But a passion so rapturing, so consuming, is dangerous. They both have jobs, have places in the world. The Sky King’s rage at their neglect is understandable. He tears them apart, breaking their hearts. Their longing, however, is felt across the galaxy; Jingnyeo in the East, Gyeonu in the West, forming a celestial river of blue tears and stars of yearning between them. Their cries for another are so loud, so pained, that the birds on earth take pity on them. 

As Chanyeol said, they can only see each other once a year, when the ravens and magpies of earth fly up to form a bridge between the two. On the seventh day of the seventh month, the two lovers can be happy again. They can love freely, knowing they have to separate soon. They say if it rains that day, it’s the lover’s tears falling to earth. 

How heartbreaking it must be to know the one person they want most in the universe -- who wants them, too -- can only be within reach for a fleeting moment. How torturous it must be to hear their cries across the galaxy. But Baekhyun supposes there’s also joy in the story, happiness in their enduring love. Gratitude to the ravens that make their reunion possible. 

Baekhyun falls asleep with his pen still in his sketchbook, imagining the pinks of earth and blue of the night sky. He dreams of a magpie bridge, but he can’t see who’s waiting for him on the other side.

* * *

Baekhyun has always found Park Chanyeol interesting, even back in middle school. Park Chanyeol had been one of those boys who could stay behind after school and play soccer on the field until sundown, the kind who got in trouble occasionally but still managed to make every teacher in the school adore him. His marks were never at the top, yet he never carried the weight of stress on his shoulders, didn’t care if people thought he was a little odd for having the interests he did at the time.

In many ways, Chanyeol was one of the boys Baekhyun always envied. But between normal school, hagwon and the family business, he barely had time to keep track of the latest idol groups much less befriend someone his mother wouldn’t approve of. Not when Baekhyun had a path to follow, and boys like Chanyeol were headed in a completely different direction.

Now, looking at Chanyeol all these years later, as the wind slightly ruffles his hair while he lounges on the grass of the park, Baekhyun can’t help but be reminded of all the feelings the man unknowingly stirred within him back in school. Funny how, despite everything, they both ended up still in Gwangcheon at the age of twenty five -- lounging together on the grass of the town park, wasting time in the summer sunlight. 

It’s even funnier how Chanyeol is now the one with a clear future, and Baekhyun’s the one hanging in the interim. 

Despite the irony, Chanyeol and Baekhyun have fallen into the new -- but somehow familiar -- territory of friendship, of _them_. They text, they see each other outside of the cafe. Sometimes Sehun and the crew tag along, sometimes they don’t. It’s so easy to fall into step with Chanyeol, with the carefree warm aura he spreads all over town. 

“We hired Hyoyeon when my Dad got sick,” Chanyeol says out of nowhere. Though Baekhyun has an inkling he knows where the conversation is heading. They’ve been seeing a lot of Hyoyeon at the cafe recently, and Baekhyun supposes Chanyeol’s noticed his own curiosity about her familiarity with the family.

“Oh,” Baekhyun regards warily, not forcing Chanyeol to continue. 

“Things got too hard for my mom to manage on her own, you know? Hyoyeon likes people, people like Hyoyeon. She picked up the slack while my mother and sister were alternating visits at the hospital. She made us smile, brought some life back to the restaurant. When my sister got a job in Busan, she became like a second daughter to my mother. She became part of the family."

Baekhyun hasn’t seen much of Mrs. Park, but the mentions of Chanyeol’s father are even more sparse. He has a sinking suspicion he already knows the answer when he allows himself to venture into possibly awkward territory.

“Your dad… is he…?"

“He died three years ago,” Chanyeol replies simply. His eyes are still closed when Baekhyun chances a look over. His eyelashes cast the tiniest of shadows on his cheeks. Baekhyun realizes in that moment that Chanyeol isn’t a perpetual optimist because he’s had the privilege of being unscarred by life; that maybe Chanyeol has had his fair share of pain and chooses to smile through it rather than let it ruin him. Just like Baekhyun’s grandma said.

“I’m sorry.” It’s not what he wants to say. There aren’t really words for this kind of situation, this kind of feeling. 

“It’s not something you have to apologize for.” Chanyeol squints his eyes open to look up at Baekhyun. “That’s life. It was hard, but we’re okay now. My sister couldn’t bear to stay here though, too many memories. For me, it’s the opposite, I can see my dad every day in town, everywhere makes me think of him. He loved Gwangcheon, I want to be part of the reason someone else loves it, too.” 

Baekhyun struggles for a minute, not sure how to respond. He’s always been good with words, with keeping a mood, but this -- Chanyeol -- is new territory. The kind that makes him trip over his own thoughts, while wishing he could share them as easily as the other man seems to be able to do. 

“Well that’s good, I suppose."

Chanyeol chuckles, closing his eyes again before covering them with the back of his hand to block out the late-May sunlight. “You don’t always have to worry about responding appropriately to everything, Byun. Sometimes just listening is enough.” 

“You don’t always have to smile like everything is okay either, _Park_ ,” Baekhyun retorts before he can stop himself. He isn’t surprised to see Chanyeol’s lips defiantly curve into a slight smirk. 

“Speaking of my sister, she’s in town today. I need to head back to the restaurant. Wanna come with?”

It’s still another hour before he starts his shift, and he’d kind of like to meet the sister he’s heard so much about. 

 

“Chanyeol-ah!” Park Yoora squeals as soon as the _galbi_ restaurant’s doors slide open.

“Noona!” In an instant, she’s enveloped in Chanyeol’s arms. 

Park Yoora looks exactly like Park Chanyeol, the only difference being she is very much a woman, and she’s the same height as Baekhyun. She’s beautiful, really, with her big round eyes and straight nose. It’s the same nose Mrs. Park and Chanyeol have, but the siblings’ eyes must come from their father. 

“I missed you. How’s my baby brother? Mom says you finally got the cafe space?” Her eyes fall on Baekhyun. “Who’s this?”

“One question at a time, noona,” Chanyeol teases, pulling away from her hug. “And this is Byun Baekhyun. He’s back in town for a while.”

“Byun like the kimbap shop?”

“That’s the one.” Baekhyun bows. “I’m helping Chanyeol and Sehun with the cafe.”

“Why are all your friends so handsome, Chanyeol?” She smiles warmly, obviously not meaning anything by the remark other than an observation. 

Mrs. Park soon joins her children, the three mindlessly rubbing their hands against one another as they talk. Like they’re so happy to be in the presence of one another. To be a family. 

Her arm extends around Baekhyun’s shoulders in welcome just like Chanyeol’s does, so naturally. It’s foreign to Baekhyun, because when Mrs. Park invites him to sit down, her smile reaches her eyes.

* * *

**From: Chanyeol**  
Mom, Noona and I are having a Go Stop tournament in the restaurant tonight. You’re welcome to join.

 **To: Chanyeol**  
Can’t. Kimbap Cheonguk staff dinner 

**From: Chanyeol**  
Oooh, getting drunk with the elderly. Wild Friday night.

 **To: Chanyeol**  
Says the guy staying in to play Go Stop with his sister.

 **From: Chanyeol**  
Go stop is a very serious game. We’re not playing for 100 won coins, here. 

**To: Chanyeol**  
And I’m not with only the elderly. Changmin is here, too. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
So that brings the average age down to… 50? 45? 

**To: Chanyeol**  
Hush. You’re just jealous that I’m Miss Lee’s favorite.

* * *

The scratches on Chanyeol and Sehun’s hands and arms are new. They’ve gradually been appearing with the increased labor at the cafe. A small cut here when Sehun forgets to lock the utility knife, a burn where Chanyeol doesn’t realize that Minseok has yet to cover the electrical socket.

Baekhyun had been correct to assume that no one aside from Minseok has any idea how to operate power tools -- a fact Minseok confirms every time Sehun starts whining and the older can only click his tongue. 

Instead of being able to revel in the entertainment factor of it all though, Baekhyun’s mind is preoccupied with worrying about his friends. Chanyeol is exactly the clumsy type to meet his end in some freak accident involving a stool and WD40. Each time he hears a loud clatter in the space from where he’s designing, he jumps up to check on the safety of everyone. Hyoyeon, too, is perpetually at the ready with bandages and chiding remarks. ( _’I didn’t know it was possible for someone to walk into the same ladder_ twice _, but you’ve unlocked a whole new level of clumsiness, Chanyeol-ah._ ).

Despite all the injuries, the space is coming along slowly but surely. Minseok’s about done with the lighting, the bathroom and sink area have the plumber’s seal of approval. Most of what remains to be done is cosmetic: furniture selections, painting, installation and wood finish of the main counter. 

Along with the routine labor, comes a camaraderie Baekhyun revels in. There’s no shortage of sass between the group -- mostly at Chanyeol’s expense -- but there’s also warm delivery dinners eaten on the floor together, beers on the back porch after a long evening’s work. They’re all working towards something, and with each new accomplishment, the goal is starting to feel more within reach. It’s more exhilarating than Baekhyun ever thought anything could be in Gwangcheon. Especially because he’s _part_ of it. 

Chanyeol, Baekhyun believes, is going to make a great boss. He keeps the team in line, indulges Jongin’s ‘creative’ flares (who knew the boy was so interested in flower arrangements in the bathroom), he’s on top of parts delivery and makes sure everything runs on schedule. He does wield an authoritative clipboard, but he never demands anything of his friends; always asking if they’re willing to do something, and never dictating. His choice of working music could improve -- there’s only so much trot a group of twenty-somethings can handle -- but he’s got it together. It’s admirable. 

More frustratingly, the summer heat has moved in completely, prompting most of the staff to labor in tank tops and sweats. For the most part, he’s unaffected. Except in the case of Chanyeol, and Baekhyun doesn't want to think about why that is. He catches himself all too often watching the way Chanyeol’s arms flex when he lifts something, the extension of his shoulders when he reaches for something high up. At each instance, Baekhyun has to pull his attention back to his digital drawing pad and focus on the job at hand -- he certainly isn’t be paid to ogle his boss. He has to remind himself that he and Chanyeol are just friends, and friends don’t look at each other like they want to feel them up. 

More than anything, Baekhyun’s become part of the friend group. He teases Minseok’s vanity alongside Sehun, lets Jongin snuggle on his thigh when the younger is exhausted, catcalls with the lot of them when Minseok and Hyoyeon get a little too handsy while patching the walls. 

Baekhyun feels included, feels _at home_. And if he’s being completely honest, he doesn’t want to see it all come to an end in a month and a half.

* * *

Slowly but surely, Baekhyun adjusts to the new online order system at Kimbap Cheonguk -- not that the learning curve is too steep to begin with. No matter how consumed he is with the final touches to the cafe’s menu, he always remembers to check the online queue every few minutes, even when business is slow.

Unfortunately for Baekhyun, Changmin is on vacation for the week and it’s up to him to not only prepare the deliveries, but also distribute them for the day. Thankfully, everywhere in town is within walking distance. Less fortunately, it means he’s actually busy and doesn’t have time to work on his designs in the afternoon. 

It’s a little after three pm when Baekhyun reads a familiar address on the monitor -- along with a special delivery note -- and he prepares the order with a huff of annoyance. _That no-so-little shit._

Baekhyun makes a point of aggressively opening the door to the Park’s _galbi_ restaurant two blocks down the road. He’s not surprised to be greeted by the image of Park Chanyeol, casually sitting on the floor, long legs spread out in front of himself as he’s nose deep in a book.

Upon hearing the bell chime, Chanyeol turns, ready to greet the new customer. Once his eyes set on Baekhyun though, his smile changes from cordial to smug. Baekhyun does his best to remain expressionless.

Chanyeol doesn’t seem to mind the silence on Baekhyun’s end as he goes to grab his wallet behind the kitchen counter.

“‘ _Send the cutest delivery boy you have,_ ” Baekhyun reads off the delivery slip in annoyance. “What the hell is this about, Park?” Maybe he’s grumpy because something odd fluttered in his stomach when he first read the words. Or maybe it’s because the way that same feeling disappeared as soon as he realized it was just a joke. 

Chanyeol continues to smile, awfully proud of himself. “Don’t read too much into it, _Byun_. I saw you were running deliveries today, and I’ve always wanted to type something into the special instructions. Plus, I thought that would certainly get your attention.”

“Well, now you have it, and you owe me eight thousand won,” Baekhyun replies flatly, resisting the urge to blush along with Chanyeol’s antics. It’s just a joke between friends, he reminds himself. No need to overanalyze it. 

“I’m glad to see they followed my instructions though.” Chanyeol winks as he produces money from his wallet and makes his way towards Baekhyun.

Baekhyun rolls his eyes, but he can’t stop the corners of his lips from curving ever so slightly. “You think you’re so charming, Park Chanyeol.” 

“Am I not?” Chanyeol asks, stepping a little closer than usual into Baekhyun’s personal space to hand him the cash. Baekhyun reaches out to take it, but pauses when his eyes catch Chanyeol’s. While there’s a cheeky smile playing on Chanyeol’s lips, his eyes are saying something else altogether as he looks at Baekhyun. It’s unsettling to Baekhyun because Chanyeol’s almost looking at him as if…. 

“Not at all,” Baekhyun says suddenly, attempting to regain his composure and break the oddly tense air surrounding them. Shaking his head, he takes a step back. "Wear normal pants for a change, and I’ll re-evaluate.” 

It takes a moment for Chanyeol to react, still so intently focused on Baekhyun. However, once the moment’s broken, he chuckles to himself, sheepishly. “I don’t know what’s more charming than a man who understands practical comfort. But I suppose you can never account for personal taste.” 

“Right,” Baekhyun replies dumbly before finally taking the cash from Chanyeol’s grip. “Well, I have to get back to work."

“Of course. We still on for tomorrow?” Chanyeol inquires as Baekhyun makes his exit.

Instead of responding verbally, Baekhyun sticks out his tongue at Chanyeol; his mind still trying to make sense of the look in Chanyeol’s eyes just moments before, his stomach in knots.

* * *

“So is this like, a _hweshik_?” Jongin hiccups after the fifth bottle of soju between the group. “I’ve never had one before.”

A laugh bellows from Chanyeol’s throat as he throws an arm around his friend. The man is like a vine, wrapping around and adjusting to whoever’s within reach. Tonight, Jongin happens to be the one seated next to him. “Yes. This is an excellent practice staff dinner for you to learn from.”

“Will we always --” Jongin hiccups again, “-- drink so much?”

Minseok barks with laughter. “ _This_ ,” he gestures at the array of empty bottles on the table, “-- is child’s play compared to a _real_ staff dinner. You need to work up a better tolerance if you ever expect to survive.”

Jongin groans, face down, into the table. 

“Don’t worry.” Chanyeol pats his shoulder. “You still have two years to prepare yourself before you’re out in the real world.” 

“I think it’s time to move onto noraebang, or else Jongin is going to fall asleep,” Sehun supplies, “I do not want to lug his limber ass home. He lives on the sixth floor.”

 

Chanyeol’s wish of noraebang finally comes true after too many drinks for Baekhyun to be concerned about his song selection or stage fright. Baekhyun is a little more than proud to reveal his vocal prowess, though he credits the drinks in his system for giving him the gall to wink at Sehun while performing Park Jin-young’s, “She Was Pretty.” 

Chanyeol had been wrong, drunk Baekhyun is all about top 40 hits of yesteryear. 

From what Baekhyun can make out through the flashing LED lights, Minseok is very much occupied with a lap full of Hyoyeon. Poor Jongin is curled up asleep on the far couch, while Sehun and Chanyeol are screaming a very off-key rendition of some Epik High song. 

They’re all shitfaced, which makes it all the easier for Chanyeol to collapse practically on top of Baekhyun halfway through the song. Whether it’s because he tripped over his own feet or because he’s too winded to continue, Baekhyun’s not sure. All he knows is Chanyeol feels heavy as he laughs against Baekhyun’s stomach. The wheezing bellows are contagious, Baekhyun laughs along without restraint. Sehun’s lisping rap isn’t helping anything, especially when delivered with such passion in Chanyeol’s wake. 

Baekhyun’s fingers take on a mind of their own and break free from underneath Chanyeol to comb through the man’s short tresses. Not that he’s imagined it before, but the hair is exactly as soft as he expects. Perhaps a bit more sweaty, though.

The room spins a little, everything too warm, too hilarious, too _much_ for Baekhyun’s impaired brain to process. Chanyeol sits up suddenly, and Baekhyun’s laughter disappears along with the weight against his thighs. 

Chanyeol is so close, Baekhyun can feel his warm breath hitting his nose. His eyes are intense and unfocused at the same time, like he’s trying to figure something out and somehow a close examination of Baekhyun’s pores will be able to reveal it to him. 

“You’re different than I thought you were back then,” Chanyeol finally whispers, almost to himself.

“Huh?” Baekhyun exhales, his eyes refusing the break the eye contact. Chanyeol’s trying to figure out his words while Baekhyun’s busy figuring out _Chanyeol_. 

“I used to think you were so distant…so _focused_.” It’s clear that ‘focused’ isn’t the word Chanyeol wants to say at first. “But now… you're not so distant I guess."

Right, he’s not distant at all. Not with the way Chanyeol’s nose is only a couple of centimeters from his own; not with the way Chanyeol’s hand rests on his knee like it belongs there. 

Chanyeol blinks a few times before pulling away, Baekhyun refills his lungs with oxygen. He doesn’t have much time to contemplate the nervous sting in his chest before Sehun is passing him the microphone once again, demanding a score of at least 90, otherwise the next round of drinks is on Baekhyun. 

Baekhyun earns a 96 and doesn’t think he’s seen anyone smile at him with so much pride as Chanyeol does when the score flashes on the screen. 

 

 

“My grandma _cannot_ see me like this,” Baekhyun groans into the street pole he’s supporting himself on, cheek pressed into the cold metal as the vibrations of his voice reverberate through the structure. Jongin, Hyoyeon, and Minseok had disappeared in a cab a few minutes ago. Or at least, he thinks they did.

There’s a firm grip to his bicep before he hears Chanyeol’s voice, “You and Sehun can sleep at mine. Come on.”

And with that Baekhyun is dragged unceremoniously down the street. At some point, Chanyeol throws his arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder, Sehun trudging along behind them. Baekhyun’s still singing -- what song he’s not sure -- as he watches the neon lights of the businesses reflect on the hoods of passing cars. His eyes are everywhere and nowhere, fogged with drunkenness. His mind is preoccupied with Chanyeol’s warm arm that fits so snugly around him -- the stickiness where Chanyeol’s bare arm touches the skin of his neck. 

 

They tumble into Chanyeol’s tiny studio, the entry way light automatically flicking on, dimly lighting the kitchen space. The room is muggy with the air of summer, the A/C obviously not running for most of the day.

“Air conditioning, we need air conditioning. Dammit, hyung,” Sehun groans into the closed bathroom door.

“You know I don’t have A/C, Sehun.”

“And I hate you a little bit for that,” Sehun lisps out, “Hate you a lot.” 

It’s so warm as Baekhyun tries to take in the small studio apartment. His eyes refuse to cooperate though, darting from the small kitchenette to the twin bed in the corner. He manages to make out the glass doors of the rear room before his eyes once again lose focus. 

Sehun stumbles further into the space -- obviously familiar with it -- before he immediately collapses unceremoniously in the center of the main room, face down into the floor. Chanyeol grunts something unintelligible before sliding the back room door open and producing a thin blanket that he tosses haphazardly atop Sehun. 

“He’s good,” Chanyeol mumbles, looking at Baekhyun’s worried stare. He doesn’t linger on Baekhyun’s face long before his hands move to unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants, discarding them somewhere near Sehun’s head. 

Words spew out of Baekhyun’s mouth that even he doesn’t catch, but somehow his jeans end up on the small desk chair in the corner of the room -- one leg still inside out. 

The entry way light flicks off on its timer, and Chanyeol makes no move to turn on a main light. Instead, Baekhyun hears the springs of the mattress in the corner of the room squeak with added weight. It’s so dark, and Baekhyun feels heavy with sleepiness. He needs a surface to collapse on and Sehun’s stomach is awfully inviting. If he can locate it, that is. 

“Me?” Baekhyun asks dumbly, pointing at himself even though he realizes Chanyeol can’t see him in the dark. “Where...?” 

He hears a pat against the mattress. “Here, there’s room for two. Unless you want to... join Sehun on the floor.” 

Baekhyun’s limbs refuse to cooperate as he collapses into the bed -- his cheek unintentionally meeting the sticky skin of Chanyeol’s chest. Everything is warm, no covers necessary.

Baekhyun begins to roll himself back to his designated sliver of the bed, but Chanyeol’s hand clasps his shoulder from where it’s tucked beneath Baekhyun’s body. So, he stays. Drunken cuddles aren’t unfamiliar to him, Jongdae is much the same -- though he’s usually the one clinging to Baekhyun. 

“Never took you for a cuddler,” Baekhyun mumbles, lips rubbing against Chanyeol’s skin unintentionally from the proximity of their bodies. 

He feels a shiver run through Chanyeol’s body but he doesn’t make a comment. 

“Sticky. We’re stuck like this,” Chanyeol’s deep voice reverberates through his chest, igniting something in Baekhyun that makes him nervous, head spinning. 

“Why don’t you have an A/C?” Baekhyun groans, tilting his head weakly, lips aligning with Chanyeol’s collar bone, brushing against the flesh. Chanyeol’s skin is so warm.

“I like the heat,” Chanyeol whispers simply. His arm slides along Baekhyun’s arm before it playfully dips near his armpit and Baekhyun giggles, squirming in Chanyeol’s hold. He ends up pressed even closer than before, breath warm against the already balmy skin. 

There’s something so tempting about the position, however platonic Chanyeol intends for it to be. Baekhyun’s skin feels like it’s on fire and he wonders if Chanyeol can feel it -- feel the electricity running through him. 

He’s intoxicated from the scent, the _feel_ of Chanyeol’s skin. Eyes closed, he rubs his lips along the protruding bone of Chanyeol’s clavicle. Tentatively, he sticks out his tongue, barely enough to taste the sweat against Chanyeol’s skin. Chanyeol’s breath hitches so slightly Baekhyun almost misses it, but it’s enough to encourage his drunken mind further, closing his lips around a patch of skin, tasting the saltiness and the musk of the summer air against the warm flesh. Chanyeol doesn’t tense up, instead his fingers continue to stroke Baekhyun’s arm, and he hums deep in the back of his throat. 

Baekhyun’s mind is clouded, the alcohol, the _taste_ overtaking any sensibility he has as he continues to journey along the column of Chanyeol’s neck -- as much as their position will allow him. He places delicate licks to the dip of Chanyeol’s collarbone, and scrapes his teeth along Chanyeol’s pulse point. 

His mind is screaming to stop, that he’s crossing a line, revealing too much. But the other half of him is far too satisfied with the small moans Chanyeol emits -- even if they’ll be forgotten come morning. 

After what could be moments or minutes, Baekhyun’s lips stop, drunken exhaustion winning out. Chanyeol’s groans, but pulls Baekhyun even closer -- impossibly close -- before he releases a contented sigh. 

Sehun snores suddenly from the floor, echoing off the walls and returning some lucidity to Baekhyun’s mind. He’s in Chanyeol’s apartment, in his bed. That’s Chanyeol’s heartbeat he can feel against his ear. 

Despite the crippling heat, the sweat and stick, and the nerves in his stomach, he’s comfortable right there. In Chanyeol’s arms. It’s a terrifying revelation. 

“Goodnight, Baekhyun.”

“Mmm.” 

 

 

Baekhyun awakens to the sounds of Sehun groaning on the floor. The sheets feel cool as he runs his fingers along the empty space beside him in the twin bed. He’s no longer pressed against Chanyeol and wonders if last night was a dream -- what little flashes of it he can remember. 

He doesn’t have to wonder where Chanyeol went for long, as he hears the distinctive sound of a spatula clanking against a pan in the kitchen. He peeks a single eye open, taking in the sight of Chanyeol -- in his boxers -- standing in front of the stove. The light is too much, painful to his throbbing head. He rolls himself over, burying his face in the covers, attempting to block out the indignant light of midmorning. 

Chanyeol must notice his stirring though, because he hears chuckles from the kitchen. 

“Good morning, Byun.” 

“How are you not…” Baekhyun mumbles, and despite being buried under the sheets, the small rays of light peeking through the curtains are still too much for his sensitive eyes, “... _dead?_ ” 

“Chanyeol hyung has the remarkable ability to never be hungover,” Sehun chimes in from the floor, voice sounding just as pained as Baekhyun feels, “the asshole.”

 

When Baekhyun peeks over Chanyeol’s shoulder onto the stovetop a few minutes later, he allows himself to ask what happened the evening before -- how he ended up in only his boxers in Chanyeol’s bed. He only remembers bits and pieces; like the taste of Chanyeol’s skin on his tongue, the summer sweat that had their two bodies pressed together so closely. 

Chanyeol lets out a deep laugh, earning a grunt from Sehun who is still very much in pain on the floor. “You asked me to undress you,” he says with a smirk. 

Baekhyun recoils, “I did what?!”

“Don't worry. Nothing too provocative, just mentions of how I have nice hands and that I could put them to good use by helping you out of your jeans. But not to get any ideas because you were only asking because pants should not be slept in for fear of chafing.” How can Chanyeol say such things so confidently? Like a dozen rules of the bro code were not broken in Baekhyun’s drunken haze; like they didn’t _cuddle_ half naked for most of the morning. 

Baekhyun groans into his hands. 

“I didn't help you out, though. Because you know if you take off a mouse’s jeans, he's gonna ask you to take off his boxers.”

“Why am I suddenly a mouse?”

“It's a children's book. You should read it some time,” Chanyeol says playfully, jerking the skillet to move the eggs around. 

Baekhyun decides then and there to steer clear of alcohol for a while. The pain of the hangover is not the only thing making his nerves run haywire. He’s ventured into dangerous territory and he knows it, even if Chanyeol can pass it off as a joke so easily.

* * *

“Pink.”

Minseok beams. 

“Your hair is pink.” Sehun’s chopsticks have fallen to the floor in favor of gaping at the latest arrival that evening. Baekhyun’s pretty sure his face is just about as surprised, taking in Minseok wearing his blue Mini Stop uniform with a very much _pink_ patch of hair atop his head.

“I told Leetuk to go for something bold.” Minseok revels in the stares, the attention. “Looks good, right?” 

“Ew, don’t _wink_ at me, hyung. I still have dinner to finish,” Sehun spits with distaste. The takeout containers are spread all around the group. Only Jongin seems to be paying attention to them now, though. 

“You look like one of those idol group boys,” Jongin says with his mouth full when his eyes finally turn to Minseok. 

Chanyeol looks a little less shocked, but no less unsettled by the change. “Please don't tell me Hyoyeon has the same colored hair and this is one of those couple things.”

“Her hair is still blonde, but that's not a bad idea…”

“Look what you've done.” Sehun glares at Chanyeol, reaching to smack the _sundae_ out of from between his chopsticks. 

“What do you think, Baekhyun?” Minseok asks, ignoring Chanyeol’s lunge at Sehun. 

“It's a cool color.” Baekhyun has to slide to the right to avoid Sehun’s flailing limbs as Chanyeol pushes him to the floor. With weeks of practice, he’s gotten pretty good at avoiding the Chanyeol-Sehun collisions. “Actually, it'd work pretty well with the design I have for the menu. Do you know the Pantone shade it is?”

The mention of the menu is enough to pull Chanyeol from his very undignified slap battle with Sehun. “How’s that coming?” he asks, startling Baekhyun a little with how quickly the other has shifted his attention. 

Chanyeol is technically his boss, he remembers. He has every right to ask. This is his cafe, and that’s most likely the reason why he looks so excited to hear Baekhyun’s update. 

“I finished the menu. Still need to tie down the logo for the cups and coffee sleeves,” Chanyeol remains silent, prompting Baekhyun to continue. “I can show you the menu tomorrow, if you’d like?” He shouldn’t sound so unsure, but the way Chanyeol has all his attention focused on Baekhyun is unnerving. 

Sehun’s grunts for Chanyeol to ‘ _Get. Off._ ’ go almost unheard as Chanyeol beams and says, “I’d really like that.”

* * *

Jongdae comes to Gwangcheon in the last week of June.

Amid all of his shifts at the kimbap restaurant, cafe construction, and the gradually filled pages of his sketchbook, Baekhyun almost forgets about the visit. Thankfully, Jongdae had texted him a few days ago as a reminder -- also to chide him for not being in touch with him -- his best friend. 

When his shift ends at three, he doesn’t hesitate to pass the few hours before Jongdae arrives at the under-construction cafe. If anything, the small space has become more of a home to him in the past couple weeks. The door is always open, neither Chanyeol nor Sehun minding Baekhyun’s help or company during the evenings. 

Baekhyun’s never really been a fan of coffee -- he generally has more than enough natural energy to get him through the day. What he wants is a comfortable place to work in relative peace or in good company, which is why Chanyeol’s unopened cafe has become his favorite place to spend time. There’s always work to be done, and no one seems to mind if Baekhyun just pops in to chat. (Though, more often than not lately, Minseok has been forcing Baekhyun to labor with him.) 

He slips through the door, surprised to find that only Chanyeol is in this afternoon. He’s standing on a stool at the rear of the space, bow legs on full display as he wields a paintbrush along the molding at the top of the ceiling. 

There’s no bell yet to warn Chanyeol when someone comes inside, and Baekhyun’s “Hello,” catches him by surprise. For one god awful second Baekhyun thinks Chanyeol will tumble from the stool and to his doom on the cold cement floor. However, Chanyeol catches himself quickly, throwing Baekhyun one of his embarrassed smiles and beckoning him further inside. 

“Do you need any help?” Baekhyun offers, hesitantly. He’s not exactly wearing clothes he’s willing to get wood stain on today. 

“Nah, I’m just about done here. But you’re welcome to hang out, you know I appreciate the company.” 

And so Baekhyun does. He curls up at the makeshift corner table with his sketchbook and laptop while Chanyeol hums along to the song playing through the speakers. 

Between the calm atmosphere and Chanyeol’s quiet hums, Baekhyun finds it easy to get lost in the pages of his sketchbook. He fills in a couple lines of his last drawing -- one of Minseok and Jongin splayed out on the floor with wires all tangled around them -- and he giggles to himself at the memory of their confused bickering that particular evening. It was clear neither had any idea what they were doing, which made the situation all the more comical to observe. 

He doesn’t even realize that Chanyeol’s relocated until there’s a breath against his ear and a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“That looks really great. You captured Minseok’s bitch-face perfectly.” 

Baekhyun leans into the touch as he turns to face Chanyeol. It’s a reflex at this point. Ever since the cuddling incident, Baekhyun’s half expected Chanyeol’s touchiness to tone down a bit. Yet, Chanyeol’s as grabby as ever. The only thing that’s changed is the newly acquired fluttering in his stomach each time Chanyeol’s calloused hands run against the fabric of his shirt and the curve of his elbow. 

“It’s just a doodle…” Why are his cheeks so warm?

“Can I have a look?” Chanyeol asks tentatively, not wanting to force Baekhyun into handing the sketchbook over, but also obviously anxious to peek through its pages. 

With a look like that, how could Baekhyun possibly say no?

Baekhyun doesn’t want to watch Chanyeol’s face as he flips through the pages, but he can’t seem to pull his eyes away. It’s the first time he’s let someone look at his sketches since he was in college and that was only because Joonmyun would snatch the book from his desk when Baekhyun wasn’t paying attention.

He swallows the nervous lump in his throat when he remembers exactly how many of his recent sketches feature Chanyeol. But that’s to be expected, right? He spends a lot of time with Chanyeol and Sehun these days. 

Chanyeol’s eyes are so wide, so expressive, as they gaze over the pages before him. Baekhyun wants to know what every little twitch of his features means; wants to be able to read him, understand him. 

Figuring out Chanyeol should be easy; he’s a country boy with a steady job, clear ambitions, he wears his every emotion on his face. He’s not at all the mysterious type -- though his wardrobe choices do prompt some head scratching. 

Yet, there’s something that lingers in the unsaid, little pieces Baekhyun can’t quite put together in the way Chanyeol looks at him, welcomes him so easily, smiles whenever they’re together. It’s too much to wrap his head around, and he shouldn’t want to figure out everything that makes the man tick because Chanyeol isn’t anything permanent. He’s a new acquaintance, a friend, not someone to lose sleep over. And yet… 

“These are like _really_ good, Byun. Wow.”

Baekhyun shrugs. “I shouldn’t even be doodling, I should be working on your logo….”

“I mean, yes, you should,” Chanyeol says with mock authority, before pointing at the page with enthusiasm. “But _these_ are great.” 

“Thank you.” 

“You sure you’re not an illustrator?” Chanyeol asks. He only means it to tease, but it strikes a chord within Baekhyun. He _wants_ to be an illustrator, but the real world has other opinions. 

Chanyeol hands back the sketchbook with an accomplished continence, and a thank you for letting him look through it. Baekhyun forces the flush on his cheeks away.

 

“Leaving so soon?” Chanyeol hollers when he catches Baekhyun packing up his things a while later. Somehow, the man has acquired a brown stripe of wood stain across his cheek, and Baekhyun wonders when Chanyeol will notice. 

“I have to go to the train station. Jongdae is arriving soon.”

Chanyeol’s eyes flash with recognition. “Kim Jongdae?” 

“That’s the one,” Baekhyun confirms, letting his excitement show, “He’s going to visit for the weekend.”

Chanyeol doesn’t exactly look disappointed, but something plays across his features that Baekhyun can’t quite read. It’s another one of those peculiar Chanyeol expressions he’ll have to file away and try to sort through later.

“Oh. Well, tell Jongdae hello for me. That is, if he even remembers me.”

“Who could forget such a dopey face?”

“You did, apparently.” Chanyeol waves the paintbrush in his hand. 

“Temporary memory loss.” Baekhyun laughs it off. “Your ears are truly unforgettable. Anyway, I’ll bring him by after dinner. You can say hello to him yourself.” 

Whatever almost-disappointed expression that was on Chanyeol’s face moments before is instantly gone, his eyes lighting up once again. “Ooh, a mini high school reunion? Exciting.”

Baekhyun can only huff as he slings his bag over his shoulder.

“See you later, Park.”

“Can’t wait.” 

 

 

Having Jongdae back in Gwangcheon is almost like being punched in the gut with nostalgia at rapid speed, in the good way. The town may have changed, their lives may be completely different now, but their friendship has always been a constant. Seeing Jongdae on the train platform -- being enveloped in one of his warm hugs -- always brings joy to Baekhyun. Security. 

They say hello to Jongdae’s parents before heading out to dinner in old downtown. It used to be their playground, now they have to stumble around trying to figure out which restaurant is the best. It doesn’t matter where they meet -- Seoul, Daejeon, Gwangcheon -- they always fall right back into step with each other. Dinner doesn’t matter so much as being able to talk without static or through pixels. 

“I think next time I visit, I’m going to bring Eunji with me.” Jongdae swirls his Udon, gauging Baekhyun’s reaction.

“Wow. Meeting the parents. Things are getting serious?” They’ve been dating for two years now -- exclusively for one and half -- Baekhyun supposes it makes sense that they’d be moving towards the next step. 

“You know they’ve been serious for a while.” Jongdae slurps on his noodles. “She just got hired at an elementary school in my neighborhood, and we figured it’s time to move in together.”

Baekhyun can only lean back in his seat, taking in the news. “Wow.”

“Yeah.”

It’s not a competition, Baekhyun reminds himself. Yet, something akin to envy rolls through his mind. Jongdae has everything so together. He’s so content. At the same time, Baekhyun can’t say he’s entirely discontented with his life, as of late. He’s barely thought of Seoul and his resumé these past few weeks; too wrapped up in Jingnyeo and his digital tablet.

“What do you reckon she’ll think of Gwangcheon?”

Jongdae shrugs. “I’m sure to her it will be no Busan, but it’s my hometown, ya know? It’s special, even if I don’t live here anymore.”

“I know what you mean.” Gwangcheon is special, with its strange cast of characters, like Chanyeol, Miss Lee, and his own Grandmother. With the easy-going nature of the townspeople contrasted by their impressive work ethic. Everyone is busy, but unlike in Seoul, they never complain. 

“You moved away years ago though, you rarely visited after that. You didn’t _want_ to visit after that. Finally learning that this town isn’t so bad after all?” Maybe it had taken him a while to appreciate it, but now he finds it difficult to list negative things about the town, something he had no troubles with before he had returned. 

“Something like that. I kind of wonder what would have happened if I stuck around. Would I have taken over the Kimbap place?”

Jongdae laughs, shaking his head. “Nah, you always wanted to illustrate. And you know your mom would have pushed you out to Seoul as soon as you turned nineteen.”

“Fair point.” His mother never liked Gwangcheon. With Baekbeom in college, the divorce, and his dad relocating to Boryeong, she had finally found her chance to move to Seoul. She reasoned it was for better schools -- and maybe some of that was true -- but Baekhyun had always suspected she had her own motivations. “Guess I’m lucky she at least let me study what I wanted.”

“Baekbeom really took a bullet for you there.” Jongdae points his chopsticks. “Getting into Med school and all. Lord knows what your mom would have pushed you to do if he hadn’t."

Jongdae knows that Baekhyun’s always regretted that he never got to be closer to his brother. With six years between them, and his mother’s pushing, there wasn’t an opportunity to bond. Baekbeom never seemed to mind the course laid out for him though, he probably saw it as his duty as the first son. 

“I don’t even think he had to try to succeed," Baekhyun reminisces. Whereas Baekhyun was all but forced to sign up for extra classes, work in school government, Baekbeom had always _wanted_ to be part of it. He worked hard to please himself, not just their parents, and that had always made Baekhyun a little jealous. 

“You know that’s not true,” Jongdae scolds. “Remember how tired he was every weekend when we were still in elementary school and he would visit from Hongseong? He worked his ass off, and you know it. That school wasn’t easy on him.”

The Hongseong Boys’ dorms were notorious for their hazing rituals. Baekhyun remembers whispering with Jongdae about how the seniors would pull first years out of bed in the dead of the night to splash them with cold water and humiliate them as discreetly as possible. A way of breaking them in before the pressures of the CSAT broke them down even further: desensitize them, _numb_ them. 

He also knows that, three years later, Baekbeom _was_ one of those seniors. Back then he’d tried to block out the image of his Hyung taunting the new students, keeping the cycle alive.

_You hate it when it’s you, but when you’re suddenly at the top of the hierarchy, it’s finally your turn._

Though they’d never said it outright, both Jongdae and Baekhyun were terrified back then. Baekhyun had been almost glad to have avoided that track; it was one of the few plus sides to relocating to Seoul when he did. He had avoided the dark circles he’d seen under Baekbeom’s eyes when he came home for the weekend -- the ones that his mother his wrote off as signs of diligent studying but Baekhyun had known better. He had always wondered if it had been one of the reasons Jongdae chose to say in Gwangcheon, even if it decreased his chances of getting into a top school. 

“So, when do I get to meet your new friends?” Jongdae breaks the silent trip down memory lane.

“Right now if you want.” 

 

 

The espresso machine has been delivered, Baekhyun notes as he swings the door to the cafe open. Their entrance, however, goes unnoticed. The group is too preoccupied: Sehun and Minseok with the new machine, Jongin with nagging Chanyeol about his playlist for the millionth time. 

“Can we please listen to something more upbeat?” Jongin pleads, “All these ballads are killing me. You’re so depressing, hyung.”

Nothing comes between Chanyeol and his ballads, except maybe the pouts of the two youngest in the group. “Fine, fine.”

Baekhyun watches as Chanyeol fiddles around with the laptop for a moment. Soon, Songgolmae’s greatest hits start playing through the bluetooth speaker. Groans are heard all around, Jongin’s head falling onto the table in defeat. 

“Maybe something that was popular within the last five years, hyung?” Sehun suggests, poking his head out from behind the shiny new machine. 

“This is a classic. An _upbeat_ classic!” Chanyeol defends. 

“Yes. Classic as in _old_. My mother listens to this stuff. You’re only twenty five, Chanyeol-hyung.”

Minseok pops out from the side opposite Sehun to add to the critique, “Seriously, the spinning class for ahjummas above the Mini Stop uses this song.” Jongdae giggles, tugging on Baekhyun’s sleeve as he takes it all in. This little bickering session is probably doing a better job of introducing the group than Baekhyun’s own words ever could. 

Clearly feeling outnumbered, Chanyeol pushes the laptop in Jongin’s direction. “Then _you_ control the music.”

Jongin suddenly springs back to life, clutching the laptop quickly before Chanyeol changes his mind. “Gladly.”

With the debate behind them, Baekhyun coughs to get the attention of the group, and everyone’s eyes immediately fall on the newcomer.

“Guys, this is Jongdae. Jongdae, this is Minseok hyung and Jongin. I’m sure you remember Chanyeol and Sehun?”

“Of course!” Jongdae’s a hugger, which doesn’t throw Chanyeol off in the slightest as his half-bow instantly is disrupted by an armful of Jongdae. Baekhyun wouldn’t be surprised if they’re hanging off each other by the end of the evening, since neither has any concept of personal distance. 

Sehun only avoids the hug because there’s a counter between himself and Jongdae. He’ll get him soon, though. 

“Welcome to Jingnyeo,” Chanyeol gestures to the space. “I know it’s doesn’t look it, but we’re almost ready to open.” As if on cue, the espresso machine growls to life. Sehun and Minseok high-five in celebration. “Granted we figure out how to work that thing. Business kind of depends on it.”

“Baekhyun’s been telling me all about it.” Jongdae smiles warmly. “I’m sure it will be great.” 

“We ordered Chinese food. Will you two be sticking around for dinner?” Minseok asks, moving away from the machine to properly greet Jongdae. 

“We already ate, but _tangsuyuk_ is my favorite. How can we not?” Ah yes, Jongdae’s bottomless pit of a stomach. 

“Cool. Jongin, can you run to CU for beer? A high school reunion deserves some drinks.”

 

Even if there’s a table, eating on the floor has become tradition. It’s easier to reach every plate laid out; it’s also easier for Minseok or Chanyeol to reach across the food to playfully smack Sehun and Jongin when they’re being too bratty (which is every few bites). 

The group welcomes Jongdae just as they had Baekhyun, without any pretenses or awkward small talk. Immediately, he’s thrust into debates over Minseok’s next hair color and Jongin’s inability to eat and do anything else at the same time. He’s also willingly pressured into chugging his beer between bites, and opening another can as soon as he finishes. 

Sehun, especially, takes to Jongdae; moving to sit closer to his newest hyung and smiling when Jongdae doesn’t hesitate to feed him the giant piece of _tangsuyuk_ he’d been eyeing. The hug doesn’t go forgotten either, though it turns into more of a snuggle as Sehun settles his head on Jongdae’s thigh when he decides he’s too full to continue. 

Jongdae blends with new groups as naturally as he breathes. He has a laugh that can rival Chanyeol’s in volume, and a smile that never fails to put anyone at ease. Baekhyun's missed him.

“Baekhyun says the opening is in August?” Jongdae asks, patting Baekhyun’s thigh. Chanyeol’s eyes immediately follow the movement. 

“Yup.” Chanyeol replies with a bright smile “As long as the furniture and paint deliveries arrive on time, we’ll be all set. Next week we’re putting up the sign outside that Baekhyun designed”

“Is it any good?” Jongdae asks. His hand reaches up to fully wrap around Baekhyun’s shoulder and give a firm, playful squeeze. 

“Fantastic,” Chanyeol supplies too quickly, with as much pride as if it were his own design. His cheeks flush when he realizes the answer is directed at Baekhyun and not Jongdae. “It’s… you’re really talented,” he says in the next breath, eyes still trained on Baekhyun. 

Sehun coughs, and Minseok chuckles into his beer can. Baekhyun can’t actually see the interaction though, because he’s too busy smiling back at Chanyeol. Sure, he’s been complemented before. But there’s something different about the warmth -- dare he say, _affection_ \-- in Chanyeol’s voice when he gives his praises. Baekhyun may be reading too much into it, Chanyeol speaks highly of everyone. Yet, each time he’s the recipient of the kind words, his pride -- and heart -- go a little haywire. 

“Yes, he is.” There’s a lilt to Jongdae’s confirmation that Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do with; too much praise all at once. So, he tucks his head and blushes into Jongdae’s shoulder to hide his blush. 

“Stop embarrassing me. Both of you.”

Baekhyun should know better than to open that Pandora’s Box, because Jongdae _will_ run with such an opportunity. “You think I’m embarrassing you now? I haven’t even told them about that time you visited me in Daejeon and you got so drunk you thought busking at three am outside Time World was a good idea.” 

“Ooh, drunken street performances.” Sehun perks up at the topic. “Do tell.”

The rest of the beer is consumed while Jongdae shares their drunken college exploits to the group. Jongdae has no shame, and doesn’t mind including his own exhibitionism. Baekhyun, on the other hand, wants to crawl over to the Staff Only pantry and die of mortification -- especially at the mention of his infamous SNSD strip tease their freshman year.

Jongdae is comforting, but Jongdae is also the current source of Baekhyun’s embarrassment. A small -- huge -- part of him wants to slide over towards Chanyeol and feel the calming sensation of the man’s hand on his knee. Since Jongdae’s grip on his shoulder is too strong, he settles for meeting eyes with Chanyeol occasionally. He chooses to appreciate the building drunken flush on the man’s cheeks, and the warm, judgment free grins he shoots Baekhyun in between barks of laughter. 

Baekhyun can sense Chanyeol’s gaze darting between himself and Jongdae throughout the progressively more intoxicated discussion. The man pays special attention to Jongdae’s hands, the way they rest on Baekhyun’s thigh as he talks with his mouth full. Chanyeol’s own hands stay remarkably idle though, never reaching out to play with Sehun’s hair or Jongin’s shoulder. It’s as if he’s holding himself back in favor of watching Jongdae’s grip on Baekhyun.

“You know what we haven’t done in a while?” Minseok’s probably the most most sober out of the group, and Baekhyun smells trouble. 

“Hmm?” Chanyeol’s too busy cleaning up the take out containers to catch the mischievous glint in the elder's eyes. 

“Visited Heechul.” Instantly, Chanyeol’s eyes meet Minseok’s and there’s unspoken trouble brewing. 

Obviously, Sehun understands the implications because he immediately grumbles into Jongdae’s thigh. “Oh, no.” 

“Billiards?” Chanyeol’s eyes are still locked on Minseok. 

“Billiards.” Minseok immediately confirms with a nod. The mess on the floor is quickly forgotten as Chanyeol stumbles to his feet. Minseok is already halfway to the door. 

“Watch out.” Jongin leans in to whisper to a very perplexed Baekhyun and Jongdae. “Minseok and Chanyeol are sharks.” 

“Very competitive sharks,” Sehun adds, throwing an arm around Jongin for balance. 

“Hyung, should we do something about the --” Jongin asks as the pair stumble a little sideways. 

“Leave the mess, we’ll clean it up tomorrow.” There's an unfamiliar expression on Chanyeol's face which Baekhyun's assumes is his game face, and Baekhyun’s a little afraid of what the rest of the evening has in store. 

 

Kim Heechul’s Billiards is only a short walk down the road -- or more like a light jog with the way Minseok and Chanyeol charge ahead. The owner recognizes the group immediately as the elevators open, rolling his eyes before Chanyeol can greet the man. The pool hall reeks of cigarette smoke, stirring a craving Baekhyun hasn’t felt in a while. 

“There will be _no_ fighting tonight,” Heechul warns as he shows them to a billiards table. He apparently wants to test his own patience though, as he asks how many bottles of soju they want in the next breath. 

While Minseok and Chanyeol immediately take to setting up the table, Sehun and Jongin exchange inebriated giggles over by the pool cue stand. Jongin is barking like a seal as Sehun attempts to grind against one of the cues. Sehun performs a relatively impressive body roll and earns Jongin’s claps of approval.

“Put that down, Oh Sehun before you cabaret someone in the eyeball,” Heechul shouts sternly as he sets the tray of soju bottles on their side table. He’s obviously _very_ familiar with the group (and their drunken antics). Baekhyun admires how easily he can command Sehun’s compliance. Not even Chanyeol can make Sehun follow orders so quickly. 

Minseok and Chanyeol go head to head first to determine who chooses teams. Jongdae and Baekhyun observe from the small bench. They quickly learn that drunk determination and pool cues do not go hand in hand. Baekhyun has to give it to them though, their skills still far surpass his own. 

He’s never been one for billiards. PC room League matches, _Starcraft_ , he can do. Hitting three balls around a table in some specific order, not so much. He’s always associated the billiards halls with his mother lecturing his father late at night when he was growing up. His father would stumble in well past midnight, only to meet the fury of his mother who yelled about how he was wasting his life playing around -- wasting his life in Gwangcheon. The overheard arguments had always left a bitter taste in his mouth.

Now though, he can appreciate the activity a bit more. Especially with the entertainment Chanyeol and Minseok provide, glaring at each other across the table while Sehun and Jongin heckle to the best of their very inebriated ability. Baekhyun thinks he hears comparisons of Chanyeol to _gaebul_ and several too many innuendos, but he can’t be sure. Sehun and Jongin aren’t the only ones who have had a few too many. 

Unsurprisingly, Minseok wins the first round (by only one shot, as Chanyeol continues to point out). Minseok deems Jongdae to be the most sober and chooses him as his partner for the next round. Chanyeol doesn’t hesitate to choose Baekhyun, causing Sehun to pout into Jongin’s lap. 

“I really have no idea what I’m doing,” Baekhyun tries to warn Chanyeol. The pool cue feels foreign in his hand, and he’s not sure what to do with the blue square of chalk Chanyeol passes him with the stick. 

Chanyeol’s lips curve up to one side fondly. “You’ve got this. You were good at math in school, right? It’s basic geometry.” Chanyeol points to the borders of the table. “It’s a simple one, two, three. Hit the first ball, touch a wall, knock the other ball.”

It sounds simple when Chanyeol explains it so confidently, but it really isn’t in practice. First, Baekhyun hasn’t used geometry since high school. Second, he has four beers in him. He completely misses the first shot. Chanyeol’s eye twitches, but his mouth spews more assurances. “You’ll get it right with a little practice.”

Baekhyun’s going to need _a lot_ of practice, because Jongdae seems to actually know what he’s doing. He hits the balls just like Baekhyun was supposed to when he had been up, and throws a smug grin at his friend immediately afterward. Jongdae isn’t even competitive, Baekhyun knows he just enjoys showing off. 

When Baekhyun’s up again, he nervously tries to balance the cue in his hand. It won’t cooperate; it doesn’t want to rest on his thumb the same way it had so easily atop Jongdae or Chanyeol’s fingers. The blue felt of the table taunts him as he tries to aim for the yellow ball on the far side of it -- Jongdae’s heckling isn’t helping anything. Just as he begins to swear under his breath -- and contemplate where he can jab Jongdae with the cue to cause maximum pain -- he’s surprised by the sudden pressure against his back and a hand dragging down his forearm. The air in the room seems to compress around him, everything so much more snug than it was moments before. 

“Here, let me show you,” Chanyeol’s deep voice whispers in his ear. It’s so close, low and steady only for Baekhyun to hear. A shiver begins to run down his spine and travels all the way down the back of his calves. He conceals it by trying to reposition himself better in Chanyeol’s hold. The taller lines up the shot, whispering words of encouragement all the while, and ignoring Minseok’s protests of “that’s cheating!” from the far end of the table. 

There’s no reason for Baekhyun to be holding his breath, but he does anyway. Maybe it’s because he’s anxious about the shot, or perhaps it’s because there’s something akin to electricity running through him as Chanyeol presses against him so firmly, so confidently. 

He closes his eyes when he pushes the cue forward. He hears the clank of the first ball, a thump, and then… another clank of the balls colliding. His eyes shoot open in surprise as he turns himself around. 

Chanyeol is already beaming at him, that same proud smile on his face. “You did it.” His cheeks are flushed (from the alcohol, Baekhyun tells himself), and the next second he’s collected back into Chanyeol’s arms for a hug. Chanyeol’s wearing his hoodie and Baekhyun is overwhelmed with his scent. It shouldn’t be as familiar -- and soothing -- as it is. 

“I’ll count that shot,” Minseok hollers, and they pull apart. Baekhyun remembers that there are other people in the room -- hopefully they didn’t catch him sniffing Chanyeol seconds before. Minseok is too busy lining up his own cue to notice the way Baekhyun refuses to meet Chanyeol’s eyes as he takes a few steps back. “But next time, hands to yourself, Chanyeol.”

Baekhyun fills his lungs with air and looks over to Jongdae. His friend is smirking knowingly, and Baekhyun’s stomach drops. Jongdae knows him better than anyone -- can read him better than anyone -- and he’s definitely been caught. 

Minseok’s warning falls on deaf ears, as Chanyeol continues to position Baekhyun’s every shot. Every touch, no matter how helpful, is progressively more maddening. Chanyeol touching him is nothing unfamiliar, but Baekhyun’s slowly realizing each dance of his fingertips along Baekhyun’s hand, each hot breath in his ear, is _doing things_ to Baekhyun. Arousing feelings Baekhyun shouldn’t be having because he’s drunk and Chanyeol is just a friend. 

It’s difficult to ignore the way his mind is screaming with desire, the way it’s begging him to lean into a touch a little more, to appreciate the way Chanyeol’s skin feels against his own. He takes more soju shots than he should with Jongin between each turn, trying to dispel the thoughts from his mind. It’s counterintuitive, because drunk Baekhyun has less control over his body than sober Baekhyun, and Chanyeol is so, so inviting. 

He can’t even snuggle up to Jongdae to calm his nerves, because his friend refuses to ‘fraternize with the enemy.’ The asshole. 

The match ends in another victory for Minseok. Jongdae and his partner high five and attempt to improvise a secret handshake, but neither are sober enough to grasp the amount of hand-eye coordination required to make it not look ridiculous. Baekhyun should laugh along, like everyone else, but his mind is too busy screaming at him to escape. 

Air. He needs air. So much so that he’s willing to settle for the muggy summer breeze out on the street. Anything to _breathe_ for a moment. He excuses himself with a cordial smile, ignoring Chanyeol’s defeated expression as he shies away from a consolation hug.

Jongdae follows Baekhyun out into the alley for a cigarette and night breeze instantly comforts his nerves. There’s too much light pollution to see the stars, but the reflection of the flashing neon lights off the building’s windows is almost as distracting. 

“Eunji will kill me if she finds out I was smoking,” Jongdae laughs as he pulls a proffered cigarette from Baekhyun’s pack and lights it. 

“Then you shouldn’t be smoking,” Baekhyun chides. The first puff of smoke fills his lungs, his heart rate instantly calming to a manageable level. He finally feels grounded again, but his feet betray him and he stumbles to the side, catching his balance only after Jongdae is already laughing at his expense. 

“I could say the same for you. And, if she does find out, I’ll just blame you.”

“Not the alcohol?” 

“I’ll blame the alcohol for the series of jumbled text messages I’ve already sent her tonight.” 

“Ha!” Baekhyun chuckles -- he’s been on the receiving end of Jongdae’s drunk texts before. His own laughter sends him stumbling towards Jongdae, who automatically opens his arms for Baekhyun to fall into. “It’s been fun having you in town.” Baekhyun curls -- very ungracefully -- into his friend, pushing the pair against the concrete wall. Jongdae’s familiar laughter echoes in his ear, and Baekhyun feels content. 

When Jongdae runs his hands through Baekhyun hair, it’s different than when Chanyeol touches him -- even if the both of them are overly affectionate. Jongdae’s touches don’t stir Baekhyun’s stomach the same way, but he loves it all the same. 

“Here, I came to rescue you from boredom, but it looks like you’re getting on just fine.” Jongdae’s voice is so warm. It doesn't send his nerves into a tizzy the same way Chanyeol’s had minutes ago. It soothes him. 

“It’s gotten better,” Baekhyun admits. His drunken mind can’t fight the secretive smile that curls his lips. 

“Does Chanyeol have anything to do with that?”

Baekhyun pulls away slightly. “What?”

“I see the way you look at him.” Jongdae rolls his eyes. “The way he looks at _you_.” 

Though Baekhyun’s gut lurches at the accusation, he manages an indifferent huff. “He looks at everyone that way, Jongdae. Even Miss Lee.” He shouldn’t be pouting. 

“Sure, Baekhyun.” Jongdae runs his fingers through Baekhyun’s hair again, pulling him even closer. “And I suppose you look at everyone like that as well?”

“That’s…. something else.” Friendship. It’s _friendship._

“I remembered something earlier today. Something from high school that I don’t think I ever told you about because it didn’t really matter much at the time... But the way Chanyeol was looking at you today reminded me... Do you remember Do Kyungsoo?”

The name rings a bell. “Vaguely.”

“In high school, senior year, there was a rumor.”

“What kind of rumor?”

“Do Kyungsoo and Park Chanyeol.” 

“Oh.” _Oh._

“Chanyeol never confirmed or denied, for obvious reasons. He just smiled and told people to mind their own business. He had that way about him, you know.”

Baekhyun’s mind is too drunk to handle the information overload. There were rumors about Chanyeol and Do Kyungsoo. Chanyeol can pass those kinds of things off with a disinterested shrug, while Baekhyun spends his life hiding things from the people he loves the most. Except Jongdae and Joonmyun, the only people he trusts with such a secret. 

“I wish I could be like him… not care about things like that.” It’s drunk Baekhyun talking, both he and Jongdae know it.

“He does have that air about him. I forgot how easy it is to believe whatever he’s saying… it’s something so… so--”

“ _Genuine._ ” Baekhyun supplies before he can catch himself. 

Jongdae’s lips curl into a shit-eating grin and Baekhyun’s cheeks redden: he’s been caught, again. “Right. He’s a good one. Don’t go breaking his heart now.”

“His heart isn’t mine to break.”

“Isn’t it?” Baekhyun feels his stomach fall out his ass. No, it _isn’t_ and Jongdae shouldn’t be giving him any ideas. 

A familiar voice breaks the quiet. “Hey I uh -- _oh._ ”

“Baekhyunnie is a little too drunk.” Baekhyun scowls as Jongdae shoves him off, sending his world spinning for a moment. “I’m sure you’ve experienced how cuddly he can get.” Jongdae is one to talk, he’s the human koala out of the pair of them. 

Chanyeol laughs nervously. “Right, uh. Right.” His voice sounds strained -- his appearance flustered -- as his eyes shift back and forth between Jongdae and Baekhyun. “Uh, well, you’re up. For billiards, that is,” he finally says. The usual cadence of his voice is missing, each word falling out flat and forced. 

“Ah,” Jongdae sing songs, pushing himself off the wall and leaving a very perplexed Chanyeol in his wake. “Sehun looked pretty drunk, too. I think we can take them.” 

 

 

Baekhyun spends the night with Jongdae cuddled against him on the floor of Jongdae’s childhood bedroom. He tries not to think about why he has absolutely no desire to drunkenly nip at Jongdae’s neck the same way he had with Chanyeol.

 

Jongdae promises spend Sunday with his family, so he and Baekhyun part ways in the morning. Baekhyun pinky swears that he’ll be sure to visit his best friend in Daejeon soon. Jongdae doesn’t tease him anymore about Chanyeol, only giving him a supportive whisper of ‘good luck’ as they hug goodbye at his front door.

* * *

Baekhyun supposes he’s been in more embarrassing situations than riding behind Sehun on his tiny electric scooter as they run to the hardware store. None of them are coming to mind at the moment, though. The cicadas are screaming in the trees, but Baekhyun’s giving them a run for their money with the squeals he emits every time Sehun rounds a corner too quickly.

The silly helmet Minseok insisted he wear makes it all the more ridiculous. 

It’s finally time to paint the cafe. Sehun was very on top of ordering the paint, and all seemed well -- the plastic laid, painters tape over all the molding -- until they realized he forgot to order rollers and brushes. Sehun demanded company for the excursion, and since Baekhyun was the only one not holding a can of paint, he was immediately selected. 

“Jongdae hyung is pretty cool,” Sehun muses while they’re throwing brushes into the cart. 

“Yeah, he is. I’ve missed him a lot.” Baekhyun already misses his friend, and it’s only been three days since he left. He’s quite comfortable with the Jingnyeo crowd, but nothing beats the familiarity -- the intimacy -- he has with Jongdae. Nothing ever will. 

“You two seem really close,” Sehun adds, like he’s hinting at something more. 

Baekhyun purses his lip, thrown off by Sehun’s tone. “We are. Best friends since we were six. Like you and Chanyeol.” 

The explanation seems to satisfy Sehun, who nods his head. “You should invite him to the opening. I think Minseok wants to challenge him to a re-match. Sober next time. The sooner, the better.”

“I’ll be sure to let him know.”

The ride back to the store is just as terrifying as the journey there. Only this time, Baekhyun expects the blatant disregard for traffic laws. He tries to distract himself with the green of the trees, and not the white lane indicators that Sehun ignores on the asphalt below them.

Despite his best efforts to stay calm, his legs wobble with nerves as he throws himself off the scooter once they’re back to the cafe. He contemplates kissing the ground, but that would be a tad too dramatic -- and unsanitary. 

Minseok greets them as they enter, “That was quick.” 

Baekhyun’s still recuperating from the ride and can only whimper. Minseok laughs knowingly. “Ah, I remember the first time Sehun drove me home on that thing. Terrifying, isn’t it?”

“That would be an understatement,” Baekhyun breathes out, remembering the multiple car doors he swore they were going to collide with during their journey. “Also, I cannot imagine you in that stupid helmet.” The helmet in question is one of the ridiculously round ones, white with a red stripe down the middle. It flatters no one, and Minseok isn’t the type to compromise his vanity. 

“Oh, I never wear the helmet,” Minseok says flippantly. “I make Sehunnie trade me for his cool helmet. Can’t look like a dingus while riding around town.”

That same helmet that Minseok _insisted_ he put on half an hour ago, citing Baekhyun’s safety as his main concern. 

Baekhyun’s eyes narrow at Minseok’s smug grin. “You butthead.”

“Hey! I’m your hyung.” 

“Alright, you butthead _hyung_ ,” he challenges. 

Baekhyun deserves the tackle, and Minseok deserves the elbow in his ribs as they fall to the floor in a heap of flailing limbs. Baekhyun can vaguely hear Sehun and Jongin placing bets over the sound of Minseok _growling_ in his ear. He almost stands a chance to win, until Minseok’s hand accidentally brushes the back of his neck and he shrieks because _it tickles_. 

He’s really a goner from then on. Minseok’s fingers are remarkably nimble as they manage to locate every ticklish point on Baekhyun's upper body. He knows his squeals are very undignified, but he can’t stop them anymore than he can muster up the strength to push Minseok off from atop himself and escape the torture. 

“Tradition says we wrestle in the creek, _not_ on the floor of the cafe,” Chanyeol’s voice suddenly cuts in, saving Baekhyun from further torture. Minseok has a thigh on either side of Baekhyun’s stomach, pinning him down, and he knows he must look a mess. 

Minseok climbs off Baekhyun quickly, Chanyeol’s tone frightening both of them. Chanyeol’s eyes are boring holes into Minseok, which is off- putting. They were wrestling on the floor, not trashing the place. Not like Chanyeol and Sehun don’t drunk wrestle on the regular, either. 

“He called me a butthead,” Minseok defends as he wipes his palms. 

“Are you eleven?” Chanyeol’s voice is more controlled, but still has an edge to it that Baekhyun can’t make out. Why is he so perturbed? 

“Pretty sure I'm a solid ten. But if you want to give me bonus points, I’ll take them.”

“Oh my god,” Sehun and Jongin sigh in unison, effectively breaking the tension. 

 

Painting goes smoothly enough. Aside from the fact that Minseok makes it a point to tickle Baekhyun’s neck whenever he’s in range for the first hour. Baekhyun doesn’t realize the tickles stop because Chanyeol begins to stick closer, looming over him, until he catches the man swatting away Minseok’s hand. 

He raises a brow in question, and Chanyeol only shrugs. “Can’t have uneven brush strokes on the wall.”

“Sure, Chanyeol,” Minseok laughs. “ _That’s_ what it is.” 

“How are you with painting?” Chanyeol leans in to ask, pointedly ignoring Minseok’s snide comment. 

Considering Baekhyun is currently holding a roller brush in his hand, the answer should be rather obvious. “You can be the judge of that?” He gestures to the wet pastel pink wall. 

“Not like this kind... like the mural-ish kind,” Chanyeol clarifies, he’s being oddly nervous. Like he wants something. 

“Oh, uh…” Baekhyun had to take a painting course foundation year of university. He passed, but it was by no means his strongest subject. “I’m alright, I guess?”

Chanyeol leans in closer. “I was kind of hoping that there could be something more decorative on the back wall.” He points to the wall Sehun is currently rolling navy paint over. Chanyeol had wanted a gradient, for it to fade into a light blue towards the bottom. 

Now Baekhyun gets why. “It’s a sky, isn’t it?”

Chanyeol nods. His eyes light up and Baekhyun’s close enough to see the imagination stirring within them.“I want stars, maybe some birds. Not a real mural or anything, but something to reflect the story. You know?”

Baekhyun nods, already imagining the scene painted across the wall. He sees the stars of the milky way above the birds that bring the two lovers together. It could be the perfect finishing touch. 

“If you can’t do it, I can ask someone else. My sister has a friend --”

“I can do it.” He’s been sketching the tale of Gyeonu and Jingnyeo for so many weeks now, he should be sick of it. He isn’t though, Chanyeol’s love for the story obviously rubbing off on him. He wants to help, wants to make that same scene come to life for everyone to see. 

“You sure?” Chanyeol never pushes. Always asks. 

Baekhyun’s not a great painter, but stars and birds he can manage. He knows he can do it justice, make Chanyeol smile. 

“I’m sure.” His lips tilt into a sloppy grin. Chanyeol is so close, and Baekhyun doesn't realize they’ve been whispering this whole time until he can feel Chanyeol’s breath against his nose. 

“Thank you, Byun.” The paint rollers make hugging impossible, but the look on Chanyeol’s face is more than enough of a reward. “We’ll have to wait till tomorrow for the base paint to dry. Would that work for you?”

Baekhyun nods. “Can’t wait.” 

 

The walls shimmer with a fresh coat of pastel pinks and blues, just like the hues of the sky. Everyone is collapsed in exhaustion at different points in the cafe. Baekhyun had no idea painting could be so tiring. Sehun appears to be the most affected, as he lays face down in the center of the open space. He’s been silent for the past few minutes, he might already be asleep. 

“You can’t sleep here, Sehun,” Chanyeol says quietly, gathering the rollers while everyone else begins to clean up the plastic wrap. 

“Watch me.” 

Chanyeol nudges Sehun with his foot, earning a small grunt as Sehun tries to roll away. 

“Up. You’ll suffocate yourself on fumes if you stay there much longer.”

“Home, too far. Floor, so comfy.” Baekhyun found out recently than Sehun lives in Cheongso, about ten kilometers from Gwangcheon. The only reason it’s designated as a town is because it has a train platform. In reality, it’s nothing more than a collection of small farms that happen to be centered in the same valley. 

Baekhyun’s just as beat, he understands Sehun’s pain. He can’t wait to get home and shower before mimicking Sehun’s position in his own bed. No dramas for him and grandma tonight. There’s not even enough strength left in his arms to use his tablet stylus after all the stretching he’s been doing to coat the walls of Jingnyeo. 

“You’ve literally worked him to the point where he thinks this dirty floor is more appealing than movement. Congratulations, hyung,” Jongin teases, kicking Sehun playfully for good measure as he passes by. 

“Come on, Sehun. I’ll drive you home, you can pick up your scooter tomorrow.” Chanyeol tries, but Sehun doesn’t budge. 

“I can’t go home, hyung.” Sehun whines, much more quiet than his indignant protests before. The words seem to mean something more to Chanyeol, whose face instantly softens as he bends down to rub his thumb along Sehun’s shoulder. He whispers something Baekhyun can’t catch, and Sehun nods, meeting his concerned gaze. 

Baekhyun wants to look away, the moment suddenly too private for his eyes. 

Minseok purses his lips, and Jongin nods to himself, seemingly understanding the small exchange taking place on the floor. Baekhyun feels so out of the loop. It’s not surprising though. No matter how close he’s gotten to everyone, he doesn't have the years of friendship they all share. There will always be little things he doesn’t know about: exchanges he can’t decode, things he has to learn. Things they might never share with him. 

Chanyeol stands a few moments later. “I’m taking Sehun to mine. You guys can lock up?” 

“Sure, sure,” Minseok says gently. Sehun follows Chanyeol to his feet and waves a quiet goodbye before they’re out the door. 

Neither Minseok nor Jongin bring up the small exchange in the pair’s absence.

* * *

Miss Lee lets Baekhyun off a little early so that he can go watch the outside sign installation with everyone. Even Mrs. Park stands outside the cafe to watch the crane carefully line up the backlit box.

It’s Baekhyun’s design that reads ‘Jingnyeo’s Story Cafe’ in traditional hangul script. It’s _his_ illustration of the two lovers and the magpies between them that dances along the base of the sign. Baekhyun doesn’t think his heart could be anymore filled with accomplishment. That is until there’s a familiar arm wrapping around his shoulders, and an equally familiar voice whispering “It looks perfect” into his ear. 

The hug is short lived before Minseok is pulling everyone together with his freakishly strong arms. _It’s real_. Baekhyun knows they’re all thinking the same thing he is. _It’s really happening._ All their slaving away, all their bickering, food fights, minor injuries, and toxic fume inhalation are finally coming together to make Chanyeol and Sehun’s dream _real._

Yes, it’s Chanyeol and Sehun’s cafe. Now though, a part of it is his, too. And it feels right, it feels like home. 

 

 

Baekhyun can’t get to the mural painting until later that evening, after everyone has cleared out for the evening. Chanyeol, too, hangs behind after the last of the dinner plates are cleared and the tools put away. 

“Can I help?” he asks as Baekhyun’s pouring the colored paint into various trays. They won’t need too many shades, just a few different light shades for stars, and black for the silhouettes of the birds. 

“Sure.” Baekhyun smiles, happy to accept Chanyeol’s help. Despite the simplicity of his design, he knows it’s more work than he can accomplish alone in one night. 

Chanyeol looks adorably lost as he stares at the paint, intimidated even. “What can I do?”

“ _You_...” Baekhyun passes Chanyeol a tray of white and gold paint, along with a small brush. “... get to paint the stars.”

“That sounds like an awful big task.” Chanyeol’s eyes widen. He grips the tools Baekhyun passes him with an unassured nervousness. 

“An important one, yes.” Baekhyun purses his lips. “In reality, though, you’re just putting little dots randomly between here, and here.” Baekhyun gestures from the left end of the wall to the right. “I trust you with that much,” he teases, scrunching his nose at Chanyeol. 

They don’t have the time to paint the entire Milky Way in perfect detail, but Chanyeol still pulls up star maps of Altair and Vega on his phone to make sure he gets the important constellations right. Baekhyun busies himself with the magpies and ravens, spreading them across the vast skyline, weaving their wings together to create the perfect bridge. He won’t give Chanyeol the satisfaction of knowing that part of the reason he’s been assigned the stars is because Baekhyun can’t reach that portion of the wall without a step stool. 

As they are, it works out perfectly. Baekhyun can easily duck under Chanyeol to continue his portion, while Chanyeol reaches overhead. 

“Hey, Byun?” Chanyeol asks when they’re crossing paths at the center of the wall, nearly on top of each other.

Baekhyun looks up, his “what?” halfway out of his mouth when there’s a cool touch of the paintbrush to the tip of his nose. He gapes. Did Chanyeol just…?

“And now you’re a star, too.”

The gasp remains stuck in his throat, his eyes drawn to the way Chanyeol’s lips curve in a measured slowness, easing into a full grin instead of his usual immediate smile. The way Chanyeol stares so fixedly at his nose has him going slightly crosseyed, and a small laugh bubbles from Baekhyun’s throat -- breaking the spell between them. 

They both erupt in laughter, Baekhyun’s paintbrush falling to the ground along with his stomach. He should reach out and paint a wingspan across Chanyeol’s cheek in revenge. But he’s too distracted with the way Chanyeol’s eyes crinkle in laughter, the way all his teeth catch the light when he laughs. It’s kind of mesmerizing. 

“So, why are you in graphic design if illustration is what you obviously love to do?” Chanyeol asks after they’ve sobered and are back at work. Chanyeol’s godawful ballad collection plays in the background, but Baekhyun’s kind of fond of the current track: Lee Eun-mi’s “I Have a Lover.” He hums along under his breath.

“Illustration and graphic design technically both fall under communications design,” Baekhyun clarifies, though not ignoring the real point of Chanyeol’s inquiry. “But I couldn’t specialize in it.”

“Why not? Your drawings are great.” Chanyeol’s so focused on his strategic dots that he misses the way Baekhyun’s face falls at the question. 

“It took a lot of convincing to get my mother to even agree to an art major in the first place.” Baekhyun sighs. This isn’t something that comes easy to talk about, no matter how many times he’s justified his degree to himself over the past few years. “If she was fronting the bill, I had some obligation to do what she wanted.” He’s always had an obligation to do what she wanted. He’s even in Gwangcheon now because she sent him here.

“But what about what _you_ want?” It feels like Chanyeol’s staring into his soul as he voices the question, stars forgotten.

Baekhyun ignores the question, the answer obvious. Chanyeol has seen his sketches, Chanyeol knows where his heart is. 

“I guess in a way, I settled.” Baekhyun turns his attention to the birds in front of him with a shrug. “All I wanted was to be able to draw. If that meant going for a marketing degree, then that was an okay sacrifice. I could take the illustration classes as electives.” 

Life is about small sacrifices. The technical name on his degree doesn’t have to matter in the long run unless Baekhyun wants it to. 

Chanyeol’s next question comes out in a whisper, like if he says it too loud, Baekhyun will run away. “Are you happy, though?”

Three months ago, he would have answered ‘no’ before Chanyeol could finish the question. Now though, he has a sketchbook filled with his own drawings; he has an illustration he made lit up with megawatt bulbs on the street outside; he has friends who helped make it all possible. 

“I am now.”

That seems to be enough of an answer for Chanyeol, who smiles with his lips pursed. Maybe there’s more to say, but it doesn’t have to happen now. 

The clock strikes ten just as they finish up. The wall looks perfect to Baekhyun: the stars curl along the top, the birds flutter through the sky, and the story feels like it comes to life right before their eyes. It’s the perfect finishing touch. Sure, some stars are bit misshapen, and a few birds have wonky wings, but it’s ideal just as it is. 

“It’s all done,” Chanyeol utters, taking a step back to appreciate their work and throwing an arm around Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Yup.” Baekhyun doesn’t want to take his eyes off the wall -- _their_ wall. He wants to capture this moment -- this feeling of complete satisfaction -- and bottle it forever. 

“It’s beautiful, really.” Baekhyun’s surprised to turn and find Chanyeol looking at him, not the wall. 

He shouldn’t be blushing. “You’ve said that about basically everything I’ve drawn.”

“Doesn’t make it less true. You’re talented. You deserve to know that.” 

Chanyeol tugs a lip between his teeth, and Baekhyun wants to kiss it. It’s the first time he’s let himself acknowledge such a thought; to entertain it with optimism and pure _want_. A jolt of electricity runs through him at the revelation and he reels back, away from Chanyeol. 

Chanyeol’s brows furrow in confusion at the suddenness of it all. 

There’s a huge difference between wanting and having. And Baekhyun now knows he _wants_ Chanyeol. He already has him as a friend -- a good one, the one who’s brought smiles and laughter to his time back home; the friend who finally provides the noise Baekhyun so sorely missed with his laughter, his greetings, his _pants_. Even his smile is loud to Baekhyun. 

He should be content with what he has; shouldn’t reach for something he can’t have. And yet, he lets his mind wander into dangerous territory, thinking of how nice it would be if Chanyeol looked at him the same way had been just moments ago, only all the time. 

Chanyeol isn’t his to want, to _have_. Not when Baekhyun’s the one who wants to leave town, not when he can’t keep Chanyeol. 

Not when Chanyeol might not want him the same way. 

“Want to go grab a beer and celebrate?” Chanyeol suggests tentatively, reading Baekhyun’s nervousness and not quite knowing what to make of it. 

Baekhyun shakes his head, no. He needs space, he needs to not be within ten feet of Chanyeol’s familiar scent right now. 

“I should get home.”

“Oh, okay.” The dejected tug of Chanyeol’s lips into a smile is halfhearted. “We still on for Friday though?”

“Sure.” Baekhyun nods, already moving to clean up his brushes and throw away the excess paint. Chanyeol turns off the speaker and everything is quiet as they gather their things. 

“Bye, Byun.” Chanyeol hugs him, and dammit he doesn’t want to pull away. 

“Bye, Park.”

* * *

Friday comes all too soon. Baekhyun’s spent the past two days agonizing over his revelation, doing his best to repress it, but he finds thoughts of Chanyeol creeping back into his mind every few minutes. Things get even more frustrating when he realizes those thoughts had been there long before Friday. That maybe he’s known for a while. But in a moment of weakness -- of distraction -- he let his mind fully verbalize the thought, and that makes it too real.

He doesn’t know how to deal with Chanyeol now, how to look at him like he’s just a friend. Their friendship has become characterized by anxiety over night. It seems like there’s no end to the yearning Baekhyun now feels; that he wants to make known and hold back at the same time.

He's unsure if can laugh along with Chanyeol's jokes, and lean into his touches, without wanting it to mean more. Baekhyun’s a master of putting on many faces to please others, of rolling with the punches, but something about this situation -- about his _feelings_ \-- is more than a smile and a quip can conceal. It bubbles out of him in the way he frowns and taps his foot anxiously; the way he refuses to meet Chanyeol’s eyes as Chanyeol throws him worried glances from behind the driver’s side. 

It might be two months late, but Chanyeol is determined to fulfill his promise of teaching Baekhyun to drive. He takes them out to an abandoned lot on the edge of town -- one with a flat surface, no cars or poles to worry about bumping into. Baekhyun stays silent for most of the ride out, only responding with grunts and hums, like if he keeps his mouth shut, he won’t say something he’ll regret. 

It shouldn’t be awkward to be alone with Chanyeol -- nothing with Chanyeol is ever awkward. Baekhyun’s newly admitted feelings though, make Chanyeol’s close proximity maddening. He’s afraid that one wrong touch will spark like a flare, shooting everything out into the open and make his desires known. 

Baekhyun’s thankful when he finally moves to the driver’s seat, at least he can grip the steering wheel. He has an excuse not to look at Chanyeol and focus on the road before him. 

He hadn’t taken into account that he’s learning to drive clutch, though. Which involves significantly more instruction, more _touching_. The cab of the truck is tiny, and Chanyeol’s hand is large as it covers Baekhyun’s own on the gear shift. 

“Push the clutch down with your left foot,” Chanyeol says squeezing Baekhyun’s hand tighter, “Then, you can shift from neutral to first, like this.” 

Baekhyun draws a heavy breath, forgetting about his foot on the gas pedal and stalling the engine for the third time. The only moving the truck has done so far are the lurches forward each time he kills the engine. He wants to scream, and he’s not sure if it’s because of the truck’s uncooperativeness, or the way Chanyeol’s fingers have somehow threaded between the spaces of his own on the gear shift. 

Chanyeol encourages Baekhyun, yet there’s a weariness in his voice. They’re out of sync and Baekhyun knows it’s his fault. It’s he who can’t stop thinking about things he shouldn’t, it’s _he_ who’s so easily affected by each of Chanyeol’s friendly touches. He doesn’t want to push them away, but he wants to keep them close for all the wrong reasons. 

“Are you okay?” Chanyeol finally asks, exasperated. Baekhyun knows it shouldn’t be this hard to get a car into gear and rolling. 

“I’m fine.” It comes out too clipped, and Chanyeol flinches. “I’m just frustrated.” Baekhyun sighs, scrunching his eyes shut and trying to calm himself down. “This is new for me.” He’s not talking about the driving. 

“I know it’s hard,” Chanyeol reassures, his hand easily finding it’s way to squeeze Baekhyun’s shoulder. “It’s all muscle memory. I stalled the engine a million times before I got the shift from first to second gear.”

Chanyeol’s trying so hard. Baekhyun feels awful because he knows he’s being unfair. He’s mad at himself, not Chanyeol. The man’s done nothing wrong. 

Driving is difficult enough for someone who's never done it before; driving a clutch is even more infuriating. Baekhyun just has the car moving when Chanyeol’s small encouragement of “that’s right” distracts him and he kills the engine before he can shift into second gear. 

“Fuck! I almost had it! Dammit!” 

Chanyeol instantly recoils in confusion, staring at Baekhyun like he’s been possessed, and maybe he has. The silence that settles between them is filled confused frustration on both ends, and Baekhyun doesn’t know how to dispel it. 

He re-starts the engine, determined to get it right this time. He pushes down on the gas with extra force, revving the engine and and watching the RPMs shoot higher. Without letting the engine calm down, he lifts his foot off the clutch. 

“Fuck Byun, you have to push the gas _gradually_ while you release the clutch!” Chanyeol shouts in frustration as Baekhyun peels out of the parking space, tires screeching and engine revving with too much horsepower.

Chanyeol’s booming voice is enough to scare Baekhyun’s foot off the clutch entirely, killing the engine as the car lurches to a sudden stop, sending both its occupants flying towards the dashboard. Thank God Baekhyun had insisted on buckling up.

“Well, shit. I’m sorry! Not like I’ve never done this before or anything!” Fed up, Baekhyun bites back with matched venom, hitting the steering wheel for emphasis.

Chanyeol takes a moment to breathe, removing his hands from their grip on the dashboard and instead running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to collect himself. He looks up, and they lock eyes. The annoyance Baekhyun expects to see is gone. Instead, Chanyeol looks at him like he’s searching for something. 

“This is so frustrating,” Chanyeol’s voice is so quiet as he leans closer. He looks just as tired as Baekhyun feels. 

“I kn--,” Baekhyun starts to say, still out of breath from his outburst. But before he can finish the thought, Chanyeol’s lips are on his.

Baekhyun doesn’t have time to react before the lips retreat just as quickly as they came. Every nerve ending in his body is going wild, and all Baekhyun can do is remain frozen in shock as Chanyeol withdraws. His eyes are blown wide, his expression most likely mirroring Baekhyun’s. 

He should be rejoicing, he’s finally gotten what he’s wanted. One look at Chanyeol though, squashes all the elation he wants to feel. Chanyeol’s not gazing back at him like he’s relieved, he looks like he regrets it. Like he just made a huge mistake; like _that wasn’t supposed to happen._

Baekhyun watches with bated breath as Chanyeol’s mouth opens and closes a few times -- no words managing to escape -- before he abruptly opens the passenger door and climbs out. Baekhyun, though slightly perplexed, can take a hint and slides himself across the cab bench to the passenger side.

Baekhyun’s heart cracks as Chanyeol mumbles something about getting back to the cafe for the furniture delivery once he’s seated back behind the wheel. Are they really not going to talk about this?

The truck roars to life, and something in Baekhyun snaps. He reaches for the gear shift just as Chanyeol’s about to let off the clutch, pushing the car back to neutral.

“Hey!” Chanyeol nearly shouts as the engine dies for the millionth time. 

“No.” They’re not going anywhere until this is resolved. 

Chanyeol’s always the one asking questions first, but now it’s Baekhyun’s turn. Because, dammit Chanyeol had _kissed_ him and Chanyeol confuses him and it’s not fair. Chanyeol can’t turn the tables like this, give Baekhyun a taste of what he’s wanted only to take it back. Emotions have been building up for too long now, and Baekhyun is unwilling to forfeit.

“You kissed me.” Baekhyun isn’t as gentle as Chanyeol, he doesn’t know how to ask without forcing. He’s past his limit anyway.

“I know.” Chanyeol’s eyes remain focused on the parking lot ahead. “I shouldn’t have done that.”

‘ _Why not?’_ Baekhyun wants to ask before remembers the remorse in Chanyeol’s eyes. Rejection, he can handle. But knowing Chanyeol might regret everything, hurts more than it should. 

“...But _damn_ , I wanted to,” Chanyeol continues, a little more breathless and whole lot more sure. 

Baekhyun’s eyes fly up from where they were focused on Chanyeol’s chest. Wait, what?

“You — you _kissed_ me.” Baekhyun repeats, thrown off by the determined shift of Chanyeol’s tone. There’s no trace of the regret Baekhyun saw moments before. 

“I know.” Chanyeol almost smiles. “I think we’ve established that.”

“It wasn’t an accident?” Baekhyun’s mind is spinning. 

“No.” It’s such a firm answer. So confident, yet shy at the same time. 

“Then why — why are you trying to run away?” _Why did you look like you didn’t mean it?_

Chanyeol chuckles bitterly, leaning closer. His voice is barely above a whisper at his point. “I didn’t want to tell you like that.”

Baekhyun’s chest tightens. “Tell me what?”

He holds his breath as Chanyeol lets out a long-suffering sigh, his shoulders slumping with the release of carbon dioxide. It’s not the right moment to reach out and comfort him, but _oh_ how Baekhyun wants to. For now, he’ll have to let his eyes do the work that his hands can’t. They trail the path of his fingers through his hair, wishing they were his own fingers instead. 

“That when you laugh, smile, talk, even when you’re fucking yelling at me and causing irreparable damage to the transmission of my truck… I want to kiss you.” He can see the amber flecks in Chanyeol’s determined eyes, feel his breath against his face, and it’s hypnotic.

“… I _always_ want to kiss you.”

This is it; the moment he can deny everything, push Chanyeol away and maybe retain some semblance of a friendship. But Baekhyun knows that’s not what he wants. 

He leans in closer, reveling in the weak gasp Chanyeol lets escape. He spends a moment taking in the flare of Chanyeol’s eyes; appreciating the uncertainty, vulnerability, and dare he say _anticipation_ swirling in his gaze. His own expression must not be too different as they share a breath.

“Then, what’s stopping you?"

The whispered question barely leaves his mouth before the distance is closed between them. Baekhyun’s not sure if it was himself or Chanyeol that made the final move, and it doesn’t really matter. Not when Chanyeol’s chapped lips meet against his with such hunger. He swallows Chanyeol’s relieved sigh, moves to take Chanyeol’s bottom lip between his own in the next second, eager to taste, eager to capture this moment and inspect every feeling it raises inside of him. 

Chanyeol’s hand against his jaw draws him further in, his own hand clutching to the bench seat of the cab to accommodate Chanyeol. He wants to press even closer, but at the same time he’s completely content like this, just _tasting_ Chanyeol; alternating their lips and allowing his tongue to poke out to trace along the pout of Chanyeol’s bottom lip. 

Having Chanyeol’s lips against his own feels as natural as having the man’s arms around his shoulder, though infinitely more exhilarating. He leans into the kiss the same way he’s been leaning into the warmth of Chanyeol’s body for months; Chanyeol’s lips accept Baekhyun’s the same way the man always pulls him a little closer. Chanyeol’s stubble tickles his upper lip, Chanyeol’s scent clouds his brain and all he wants is more more _more_. First kisses are rarely perfect, but this in all it’s uncoordinated nervous charm, is pretty damn close. 

Baekhyun pulls away first with a breathy giggle. Chanyeol’s eyes are still blown wide, his cheeks wonderfully flushed. There’s no hint of the regret he saw after the first kiss, and before he can even inhale a full breath, he’s pulling the taller back in again.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 done! I hope you enjoyed. 
> 
> Encouragements and comments desperately needed as I tackle the monster that is part 3.
> 
> [come say hi to me on twitter~ ](https://twitter.com/chelmarr)i don't bite.


	4. I hate sleeping alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is a monster of a chapter. just a warning.

The July humidity crushes against Baekhyun’s skin, every inch of him is warm and sticky. It should be uncomfortable. The heat isn’t the only thing pushing against Baekhyun though, now that he has Chanyeol and his ever-eager lips to entertain. Chanyeol in his seasonally appropriate tank top, showing off the firm, tan lines of his biceps that are making Baekhyun a little crazy. 

It's baffling that Chanyeol wants to kiss Baekhyun; wants to press him up against the back wall of the cafe and trail his lips along his neck, make him bite back moans in the back of his throat. Baekhyun can't comprehend how this is happening, but the press of Chanyeol’s thigh against his own confirms that this is very much real. It's happening. 

Maybe everything’s moving too fast, but the days don’t feel long enough now that he has Chanyeol’s lips to occupy him in the back alley. 

Not like they really have a lot of free time, either. With the recent furniture delivery and Hyoyeon’s espresso machine lessons, everything is so busy in the final weeks before the opening. Baekhyun’s happy to take up what little bit of Chanyeol’s free time he can. He’s more than happy to occupy Chanyeol with his lips, nipping at them only to rub his tongue along the same patch a moment later.

“It’s really nice to be able to do this,” Chanyeol’s voice is so low. His eyes are still trained on Baekhyun’s mouth as he leans down to press a chaste kiss to his lips. It’s the sweet, blissful kisses Baekhyun likes best. The one’s that remind him that Chanyeol wants this the same way he does -- the ones that confirm he hadn’t been alone in his pining. 

“Yeah, it is.” 

It’s more than nice, it’s fucking fantastic. 

It’s not just make-out sessions out back that make Baekhyun’s heart do a funny victory dance. There’s also the secret smiles and gentle touches inside that cafe that Baekhyun revels in. They’re busy, and they haven’t told anyone about the developments between them, but somehow Chanyeol always manages to remind him that he’s on his mind, too. That they share something different between them now. 

Baekhyun’s hands are already threaded in Chanyeol’s hair, so it’s easy to tug him closer, deepening the kiss just enough to tease before he pulls away, more than a little breathless. 

The ringing of Chanyeol’s phone is first felt as a vibration against Baekhyun’s thigh before the shrill default ringtone goes off. Chanyeol pulls away with a sigh to answer. In the meantime, Baekhyun runs his fingers along the expanse of Chanyeol’s arms, simply because he _can_ now. Not only has he unlocked permission to touch Chanyeol, but he can appreciate the way the man’s eyes roll back in contentment as he’s doing his best to sound unaffected over the phone. 

From what Baekhyun can catch, the call has something to do with the coffee bean order. He knows it’s important, so he doesn’t rile Chanyeol up too much, keeping his touches more affectionate than suggestive as his hands make their way back to Chanyeol’s hairline. 

He’s just brushed a few stray hairs from Chanyeol’s forehead when Chanyeol hangs up. 

“Everything alright?” he checks. Chanyeol is already leaning back into his bubble, crowding him with his scent. 

“Yup. All is well. Just confirming the order and delivery for August fifth.” 

“That’s so soon,” Baekhyun realizes. It’s crazy how quickly everything is coming together. How soon everything is going to end, really. It was just two months ago when he was meeting everyone, when they drafted a tentative labor schedule in the barren cafe space, and every task seemed so daunting. 

He isn’t ready for it to end just yet because a small part of him is afraid that all the familiarity, comradery, will come to an end once the cafe is up and running; once Minseok, Jongin and Sehun return to classes at Haejeon during the day. 

Chanyeol, though, he’ll still be here. 

“So what do you say to dinner at the lamb restaurant down the road tonight? Or would you rather go to the PC room and have your butt kicked at Starcraft again?”

While both those ideas are tempting, Baekhyun has one of his own. “Why don’t we just watch a movie at yours or something?”

Truthfully, as much as he loves their back alley make-out sessions, he’s eager for some uninterrupted downtime without the possibility of someone catching them. His intentions are mostly pure: a little making out, the usual banter, maybe some cuddles.

“We could do that…” Chanyeol begins, “... If you’re okay with Sehun joining us.”

Baekhyun brows knit. That isn’t really what he had in mind. “Why would Sehun be there?”

“Because he’s kind of living with me right now,” Chanyeol clarifies, gauging Baekhyun’s reaction. 

Immediately, all thoughts of getting Chanyeol alone disappear. He’s far more concerned with why Sehun is staying with Chanyeol in the man’s tiny studio apartment when he knows Sehun has his own bedroom at his parent’s place in Cheongso. 

“Is he okay?”

“He will be,” Chanyeol says confidently, but with a hint of something else. “Gwangcheon is closer to the University anyway.” 

Baekhyun doesn’t point out that it’s currently summer vacation, and Sehun doesn’t need to be closer to his college. There’s more that Chanyeol’s not telling him; he remembers the night Sehun pitifully told Chanyeol he couldn’t go home. He gets that Sehun’s secrets aren’t Chanyeol’s to share, but he’s curious. He’s worried. 

“Then… let’s have dinner with everyone else and go for a drive after?” 

“That sounds good too.” Chanyeol’s smile is smug, obviously knowing what Baekhyun has in mind. “Now, where were we?”

Baekhyun takes the opportunity to switch their positions and press Chanyeol up against the wall. “I believe I was about to do this.”

* * *

It had been Minseok’s idea. It also had been easy enough for Sehun to snag a few of Chanyeol’s outfits to distribute among the makeshift staff. Baekhyun’s not sure if he was intentionally handed the most obnoxious pair of pants, or if Sehun was distributing at random. He does know, however, that he had to roll the pant legs three times before he didn’t look like he was melting into the floor. Chanyeol’s legs may not be the shapeliest, but they definitely are long -- something he appreciates more when he’s not trying to trip over his own feet in a pair of stretchy, floral pants.

Baekhyun’s kind of amazed Vain and Vainer agreed to this -- that it was their idea in the first place. Sehun went all out, too, choosing the stretchy pants with the loudest patterns, and not the more tame hiking pants he knows are in Chanyeol’s wardrobe, too. _‘It’s for impact, hyung.’_

“Gotta hand it to Chanyeol hyung, these pants aren’t half bad.” Jongin tugs on the waistline, marvelling at its elasticity.

“Jongin, no,” Sehun whines, “Don’t be brainwashed by the practical comfort, and remember that you look ridiculous.”

“I don’t know,” Minseok chimes in from behind the newly installed register, “Maybe Chanyeol is onto something. I don’t think my thighs have felt this free in ages.”

Sehun scowls. “That’s because you insist on wearing tight pants every day. Move up a size and you’ll be fine.”

“What can I say? Hyoyeon likes the tight pants.”

“You’re so whipped, hyung.”

“Is that such a bad thing?” Minseok leans over the counter, sticking out his tongue. 

And is it? Baekhyun wonders. Sure, he’s not in a two year long relationship with Chanyeol like Minseok is with Hyoyeon. Yet, he can’t deny the strange satisfaction he feels walking around in Chanyeol’s pants, knowing that they belong to the same man who kisses him so sweetly it almost makes his toes curl. He looks ridiculous, sure. But he smiles to himself knowing that these pants are another little piece of the quirky dork that is Chanyeol. Another part of this strange life in Gwangcheon that he gets to hold close. 

 

 **From: Chanyeol**  
Meet me out back?

Baekhyun’s not sure what he’s expecting when Chanyeol catches sight of himself wearing the one of man’s pairs of ahjussi pants, but it certainly isn’t a smirk. Chanyeol continues to scan him up and down before nodding his head in approval. 

“You look awfully handsome today.” Chanyeol’s hands slide around Baekhyun’s middle automatically once he’s within range. Baekhyun has to bite his lip to hold in the giggle, anticipating Chanyeol’s reaction when he sees his friends inside. “I see I’m rubbing off on you.” Chanyeol tugs at the elastic near the pocket, and it should not be as seductive as it is. 

“In more ways than one,” Baekhyun comments under his breath. Chanyeol chuckles outright before leaning in to kiss along the expanse of Baekhyun’s neck. His hands are busy playing with the fabric along the elastic waistband before they venture lower to playfully grab at Baekhyun’s thighs. Groping is new, and Baekhyun is eager to return the favor. Maybe not here, though.

“I _really_ want to get you out of these pants,” Chanyeol murmurs against his pulse point. Realizing his own confession, he pulls away sheepishly. “Is it too soon to say things like that?”

No. Not when the feeling is mutual. 

Baekhyun laughs at the concerned look on Chanyeol’s face, shaking his head. “Jealous that I look better in them?”

Chanyeol rolls his eyes. “Way to kill the mood.”

“Just wait ‘til you get inside,” Baekhyun sing-songs, sliding away and leaving a very confused Chanyeol in his wake.

 

Chanyeol takes a good five minutes to catch on. It begins with a squinting examination of Minseok and a proud comment that he owns the same pants. When Chanyeol catches sight of Sehun, he tells him he should wash his own pants and not borrow Chanyeol’s without asking. 

It’s when Jongin stands up from one of the booths that Chanyeol examines him in confusion, and the gears start turning.

“Wait a minute.” Chanyeol stands up from his perch behind the counter, pointing an accusatory finger at each staff member. “Why are you all wearing my clothes? You look ridiculous.”

“Exactly, hyung,” Jongin snickers, “ _Exactly_ ,” 

Chanyeol turns away from Jongin to glare at Baekhyun. Only a few minutes ago he was eyeing the same outfit with hungry eyes, and now he’s scowling -- but without any actual bite. “You were in on this too?” 

Baekhyun bites back a laugh at the completely distraught look on Chanyeol’s face. “Guilty.”

“I can’t believe this.” Chanyeol falls back onto his stool, looking so betrayed and it’s adorable. Another facial expression Baekhyun will file away forever. “Why don’t my own employees respect me?”

“We respect you, hyung,” Jongin says, “It’s the pants we take issue with.”

“I was actually thinking about making these pants part of the staff uniform,” Sehun says, doing a showy twirl as Jongin claps in approval. 

“Buy your own pants, you brat,” Chanyeol sulks.

Joining in on the teasing, Minseok does his best attempt at shaking his butt in Chanyeol’s direction. He’s actually not half bad at the whole sexy dancing thing, pants aside.

“You don’t think they look good on me?” Minseok asks coquettishly, scooting his butt closer to Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun knows Chanyeol is about to go in for the tackle when Minseok bats his eyelashes with a playful pout on his lips after Chanyeol fails to respond. He’s only spared due to the arrival of a delivery man who looks on in confusion at the scene before him.

Seeing as Chanyeol is too busy doing some combination of a glare and a pout, Sehun attends to the delivery man and tells him he can unload the boxes in the doorway. Baekhyun’s eyes scan the label on the outside of each box, noticing they’re the delivery of unassembled bookshelfs Chanyeol had ordered a week previous. Chanyeol should be rejoicing at their arrival, but he’s apparently too busy sulking behind the counter. Baekhyun wants to go over pat his shoulder, maybe tease him a bit more. A kiss or two could definitely wipe the scowl right off Chanyeol’s face, he knows. But now -- with everyone watching -- is not the time. 

“Last furniture delivery complete!” Sehun cheers once the delivery has been signed for, and the delivery man exits. He then turns his attention to Baekhyun, and points at Chanyeol. “Now, get your boyfriend to get off his flat ass and make him help out.”

Everything pauses, and Baekhyun isn’t able to stop the tiny gasp that falls from his lips. Chanyeol’s head instantly snaps up to gawk at Sehun.

They haven’t told anyone about them yet. Unless Chanyeol let it slip to Sehun in the past few days. What’s more, they certainly haven’t discussed labels. Chanyeol is Baekhyun’s _something_ , and he knows Chanyeol feels the same. He has no desire to be with anyone else, but ‘boyfriends,’ that’s new. It’s so… official. A claim he’s staking in Gwangcheon -- a town that isn’t his to mark forever. 

Truthfully, he likes the sound of it quite a bit. He won’t let himself get caught up in that feeling though, because doesn’t know if everyone else will be as accepting. His stomach instantly knots, but his mouth can’t seem to deny Sehun’s words. 

“What?” Sehun raises an eyebrow, glancing between Chanyeol and Baekhyun. “If you two aren’t official yet then I just did you both a favor.” 

Relief floods Baekhyun’s system in a sudden wave, surging through his limbs as the potential negative judgement of the words is exhaled from his lungs. He sputters in place. “And that’s... Okay?” 

Although the question is directed at Sehun, a bit of it is also for Chanyeol. He wants to know that Chanyeol is comfortable with this development, too. He’s surprised to look over at the man and see him beaming as he raises from his stool behind the counter. No longer is he whining about the pants heist. He looks touched, proud even. Gone is the faux betrayal in his eyes as he focuses on Baekhyun and makes his way towards him. 

“What? You thought I didn’t know? It’s hard to miss with the way you two gaze at each other.” Sehun huffs, looking pointedly at Chanyeol’s smitten face as if it’s all the proof he needs. “And Chanyeol’s been wearing jeans lately. He’s obviously trying to impress someone. _And_ I think this morning I saw a hickey on his...”

“Enough! We get it.” Baekhyun’s okay with them being out to their friends, that doesn’t mean they have to know all the sordid details. It’s a blessing that Sehun can’t remember any of the incidents in Chanyeol’s bed that one drunken night.

Chanyeol laughs, wrapping his arm around Baekhyun and pulling him in once he’s close enough. The touch is all the confirmation Baekhyun needs to know that Chanyeol is serious about this, and that it’s okay for everyone else to know, too.

“Guess the cat’s out of the bag then.” Chanyeol chuckles without a hint of nervousness. He looks down at Baekhyun with an enamoured smile on his face, and Baekhyun can’t help but reciprocate. 

“Oh, please. I’m pretty sure you two were the only two that didn’t realize,” Minseok grumbles, “All that pining, those starry eyed stares across the cafe…” Minseok’s impression of Chanyeol’s gaze isn’t half bad. “Hyoyeon’s been asking me for updates about you two since the first day we started working here.” 

Acceptance is not something Baekhyun is unfamiliar with. Both Jongdae and Joonmyun know he likes men, but mass acceptance -- or mass indifference, really -- is kind of overwhelming. He wants to pull Sehun, Minseok, Jongin, even Hyoyeon into his arms and hug them all. 

His arms aren’t quite long enough for that, though. So he settles for burying his smile in Chanyeol’s shoulder. Chanyeol feels his sigh of relief, and kisses the top of his head.

* * *

“ _What_ are you wearing?” Is the first sound Baekhyun is greeted with as he keys into his grandma’s apartment a few hours later. It’s a voice Baekhyun hasn’t heard in a couple months. At least not in person.

“Mom?” Sure enough, there’s his mother, sitting at the kitchen table with his grandma. “And uh, it was a joke with my friends. These aren’t my pants.”

“Your grandmother told me you made some friends?” She raises a brow, scrutinizing his wardrobe. The pants that had felt so comfortable -- albeit a bit silly -- a couple hours before now make him uneasy.

“A couple, yeah.” He shrugs, tucking at the fabric nervously. “Park Chanyeol and Oh Sehun are opening a new cafe in town... I’m helping them out. I’m also design---”

“Park Chanyeol?” It sounds wrong, the way she repeats his name -- laced with so much judgement and she doesn’t even know him. Baekhyun recoils. 

“Yeah, and Oh Sehun.” He shuffles in place. He should be used to the scrutiny by now, but months away from it have softened him a bit. 

“Your grandmother told me you’ve been spending a lot of time with the Park Boy?” his mother continues, moving her attention to her tea. She phrases it like a friendly question, but Baekhyun knows better. 

_The Park Boy._ Seven years ago, in high school, that title would have felt completely appropriate. But now, it feels wrong; the consonants clip in Baekhyun’s ears unpleasantly. Baekhyun much prefers Chanyeol. Just _Park_. There’s familiarity there. The man in question is not the Park Boy, he’s Chanyeol. Park Chanyeol of bright smiles and wheezes and… well, he’s certainly not a boy anymore. 

“Baekhyunnie actually is doing the branding for Chanyeol’s cafe,” his grandmother’s voice rises above the tension. “From what I hear he’s doing an excellent job.”

Funny how his grandma knows more about him than his own mother. 

His mother hums in acknowledgement, satisfied enough but obviously not pleased about the fact that Baekhyun is getting along so well in Gwangcheon. She sighs, setting her tea down before locking eyes with Baekhyun in warning.

“A job is good. But, you should be careful, falling into the likes of that crowd.” 

_What crowd?_ He almost asks, but it’d be futile. His mother won’t understand how happy he’s been doing the branding for Jingnyeo these past couple months. She especially won’t be able to accept how content he is in Gwangcheon, the town intended to be his exile. 

Arguing with her is pointless, because it’s not like he’s here forever, either. No matter how much that thought hurts him to accept. 

“Mom, I have a job for now. Don’t worry, I’m still sending out resumés and applying for other work,” he lies, “I’ll be back in Seoul soon.” Why does that promise sound so wrong falling from his lips?

“Good. I’d hope so. Now, let’s have dinner and you can catch me up on Kimbap Cheonguk. Has Miss Lee been good to you?” 

 

 **To: Chanyeol**  
Can’t come out tonight. My mother decided to pay a surprise visit. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
:( You okay?

 **To: Chanyeol**  
I will be. Promise. See you tomorrow. 

**From: Chanyeol**  
Can’t wait :)

 

It’s not until he’s laying in bed later that the familiar voice he thought he’d banished comes creeping back into his consciousness. Seeing his mother in his grandma’s kitchen had acted as a giant slap of reality for Baekhyun.

Despite all her backhanded compliments, maybe his mother has a point. Has he really been trying to get his life together in the time he’s been in Gwangcheon? Jingnyeo opens in two weeks, and after that he’ll be back to Kimbap Cheonguk, with a resumé that qualifies him for something bigger. 

He can’t stay here forever, he can’t set up shop in Gwangcheon. He’s been so busy with the cafe, with new friends, and most recently with _Chanyeol_ , that he hasn’t thought at all about what will happen when construction ends. He doesn’t want the work to end so soon, because that will mean back to Kimbap Cheonguk and relative unemployment aside from what he makes off his family’s business. 

Maybe he should be more concerned, maybe he needs to revisit his CV. Maybe he needs to actually send out resumés like he has assured his mother he’s been doing this whole time. But doing so would acknowledge the ending of everything he’s grown to be so comfortable with. 

He’s not ready to see past August eighth, but he knows it’s time to start trying.

* * *

Pavlov would be proud of how Baekhyun has become conditioned to shout a greeting at the ding of Kimbap Cheonguk’s door.

He gawks when he spots all six feet of Chanyeol standing in the doorway, hands in his pockets like always, lips stretched into a wide smile as he eyes Baekhyun up and down. He looks so handsome like that, when he doesn’t even realize his left eye is twitching with the force of his grin. 

“You look good in that apron,” Chanyeol comments quietly as he approaches Baekhyun.

Baekhyun’s eyes immediately widen as he looks over to see if the ahjumma in the corner had heard Chanyeol’s comment. Luckily, she seems pretty engrossed in the talk show playing on the television.

“Don’t worry about Miss Choi,” Chanyeol reassures in a whisper, crowding closer to Baekhyun. “I’m just appreciating the view, you could at least be a little flattered,” he finishes with a wink and Baekhyun grimaces at the cheesiness of it all before turning his eyes to the bright red apron.

Simpering, Chanyeol extends his hand and playfully toy with the neck string of the apron wound behind Baekhyun’s neck. It’s infuriating because Chanyeol _knows_ what he’s doing to get Baekhyun’s attention, and is shameless about it. 

With Sehun staying at Chanyeol’s the past couple weeks, it’s been difficult to find time to be alone together. Aside from the brief moments they steal pressing each other up against the back alley of the cafe or in the cab of Chanyeol’s truck. The teasing touches in the cafe, whispered promises of something _more_ are getting to be too much. Baekhyun likes to think of himself as someone with some amount of self control -- he’s long past his teenage hormonal years -- yet each little interaction between himself and Chanyeol riles him up. Blame it on the heat of summer or just how _long_ it’s been since he’s felt this way about someone, but his pent up frustration is getting the better of him. Soon, he’s going to explode. 

“I think it really brings out your shoulders,” Chanyeol continues, appreciating the way Baekhyun shivers beneath his fingers. Baekhyun wishes his neck wasn’t so sensitive -- wishes Chanyeol didn’t know that fact. He traces the outline of Baekhyun’s shoulder through the fabric of his t-shirt, eyes following his fingertips.

Baekhyun’s suddenly a little warmer and all too aware of the fact that he probably smells of tuna and radishes -- and that Miss Choi is still present. He bats Chanyeol’s hand away after it begins to make its way back towards his nape. 

“Why are you here?” Baekhyun asks sternly, trying to push away the stirring in his stomach. Chanyeol looks up dazedly from where his hand had been moments before and meets Baekhyun’s gaze with a lazy smile.

“Mom said she didn’t need me at the restaurant today, so I was on my way to the cafe. Thought I’d pop in and say hello.”

“And saying hello involves feeling me up in front of customers?” Baekhyun whispers through clenched teeth. Not that he minds Chanyeol’s touches. But he doesn’t want to be held responsible for jumping Chanyeol and scandalizing Mrs. Choi who just wants to eat her _soondubu_ in peace.

“What can I say? You’re very tempting in a uniform.” Chanyeol wiggles his brows and chuckles at Baekhyun’s forced scowl. A small smile breaks through Baekhyun’s lips and it makes Chanyeol beam. “Plus, Minseok, Hyoyeon and I are going to go out tonight. Just over to Hongseong for a horror film, but probably more exciting than watching dramas with your grandmother. You want to join?”

“Sure.” Gone is all the annoyance and sexual tension from moments before. With the special way Chanyeol smiles at him, he’s become just as bad as all the ahjummas in town, giving into Chanyeol’s suggestions without hesitation these days.

Chanyeol looks delighted at Baekhyun’s agreement, though he probably already expected it. “Then, it’s a date.” 

Before Baekhyun has a chance to stop him, Chanyeol leans in for one quick kiss. 

“Don’t be so scandalized Byun, it’s just _skinship_ ”

The firm shove Baekhyun gives him out the door is finally what calls Mrs. Choi’s attention to the pair. 

 

 

Baekhyun doesn’t remember much about the movie. Not with the way Chanyeol’s hands had been _everywhere_ for the duration of the film. He had kept the locations innocent enough -- a graze of neck, a dance of his fingertips along Baekhyun’s thigh -- and that had almost made it worse. Minseok and Hyoyeon had paid no mind, equally caught up in cuddling each other during the scariest scenes. Baekhyun had already been wound up enough from Chanyeol’s appearance at Kimbap Cheonguk, and he couldn’t help but return Chanyeol’s touches with a few (a lot) of his own, wishing he could do more. 

Really, it’s no surprise that he asks Chanyeol to pull over halfway between Hongseong and Gwangcheon on the drive back; that as soon as Chanyeol secures the emergency break, Baekhyun’s diving across the cab of the truck to kiss him senseless.

Chanyeol’s only caught off guard by the ambush for a second before he’s welcoming Baekhyun into his lap with a grunt. It’s a tight fit with the limited space and the steering wheel, but Baekhyun’s comfort isn’t really his top priority at the moment, he just needs to be closer. Chanyeol somehow manages to turn the engine off with his right hand while matching Baekhyun kiss for kiss, pushing himself further into the seat to make more room, like he had expected this to happen. Baekhyun can feel the satisfied smile of his lips and all he wants to do is rile Chanyeol up in revenge. He _knows_ he’s not the only one who’s over-eager, but damn Chanyeol is better at controlling himself -- at least until he has a lap full of Baekhyun. 

Satisfied with Chanyeol’s already heavy breathing, Baekhyun moves to kiss along his neck. He draws a patch of skin beneath his teeth and bites just hard enough to make Chanyeol gasp. Hands grip against his hips, and Baekhyun feels secure, even if his mind is a jumble of lust-filled thoughts. 

If Chanyeol revels so much in winding Baekhyun up, then Baekhyun can revel in watching Chanyeol come undone. It’s only fair. 

With that in mind, he lets his hands wander further down, tracing against the fabric of Chanyeol’s jeans. What he intends to be a teasing grope quickly becomes something more when Chanyeol emits a deep moan. Baekhyun’s never heard that kind of blissful sound fall from Chanyeol’s mouth -- so low, so _needy_ \-- and all he can think of is how to make it happen again. There’s so much he has yet to learn about Chanyeol: what he wants, what he likes. Half the fun -- and half the reward -- is figuring it out, one exploratory touch at a time. 

Chanyeol’s hands aren’t idle either, they run up and down Baekhyun’s thighs, squeezing deeper to show his approval each time Baekhyun nips at his collarbone. When the hands move to Baekhyun’s ass, he rolls his hips, completely unthinking of the friction he’s bound to create. Chanyeol groans deep in his throat, the vibrations felt against Baekhyun’s lips. It’s too satisfying to not do again. His lips move up to find Chanyeol’s, his mouth muffling the satisfied sighs the both release with each movement of Baekhyun’s hips. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time. 

Chanyeol kisses him with nothing but exposed desire. He doesn’t hold back as his tongue traces along Baekhyun’s teeth, as his own teeth bite down on Baekhyun’s lips. It’s crazy to Baekhyun how something so lustful can still feel earnest, like somehow Chanyeol is giving away a bit of his heart with each brush of their lips against one another. He wonders what Chanyeol feels in his kiss; can he tell how much Chanyeol drives him crazy? How much he wants this? 

“Want you…” Chanyeol says breathlessly between kisses. 

Without thinking, Baekhyun’s hand moves back to the bulge between Chanyeol’s legs, anxious to draw more moans from his throat. Chanyeol is hard beneath him, and Baekhyun would beam with pride if his mouth wasn’t already occupied. His mind is so clouded, he can think of nothing else aside from touching Chanyeol; from being touched _by_ Chanyeol. 

Sure, they’ve made out in Chanyeol’s truck before, but never like this. Never with their hands wandering along waistlines, with whispers of want and need falling from their lips. 

His fingers have just found their way to the zipper when the flash of headlights against his closed eyelids breaks his concentration. He suddenly remembers they’re pulled over on the side of the road, in a tiny truck, his back pressed uncomfortably against the steering wheel, and his hand well on it’s way to being inside of Chanyeol’s pants. 

“Fuck, we should stop,” Baekhyun says breathlessly, using Chanyeol’s shoulders to push himself away from the man’s lips. Chanyeol mouths air for a moment before he opens his eyes, clearly confused by Baekhyun’s retreat. He gives Chanyeol a moment to find his bearings before he elaborates. “There’s definitely not room in this truck, my grandma is home, and I don’t fancy checking into a dirty love motel in this town.”

What remains unsaid is that he doesn’t want to be caught checking into a love motel with another man in their town. Chanyeol understands the implications easily enough and backs off, though his eyes remain focused on Baekhyun’s lips.

“Yeah… we got a little carried away there.” Flustered Chanyeol is quickly becoming Baekhyun’s favorite thing; the way his chest heaves with each breath and his eyes dart around while his lips form barely coherent syllables. 

Baekhyun raises himself from Chanyeol’s lap. He needs distance between them or he’ll dive right back in again; his mind screaming to finish what he started. Once he manages to make it to the passenger side of the truck, he allows himself to look back at Chanyeol. His eyes instantly fall to the very obvious strain in the man’s jeans -- not that he’s faring much better.

“I’m sorry about that, I just--” 

“Let’s go away this weekend,” Chanyeol says suddenly, maybe in an effort to pull Baekhyun’s eyes away from his crotch. 

It works, because Baekhyun’s heart lurches and he instantly looks up. “What?” Going away together… that’s big. 

“You, me, let’s get out of town this weekend. It’s easy enough to travel to Taean or Daecheon beach. Why don’t we just… go away for a night?” Chanyeol’s kiss-swollen lips are almost as distracting as the nervous furrow of his brows. 

“Are you… are you proposing this just because you want to have sex?” Baekhyun asks incredulously.

Surprised with Baekhyun’s bluntness, Chanyeol runs his fingers through his hair. “Something like that. But, I see how stir-crazy you get here. There’s nothing wrong with going away for a weekend. Sehun can handle the cafe stuff for a day or two. We don’t have to… _you know_ … unless you want to, of course.”

“I want to,” Baekhyun supplies without thinking, images of himself and Chanyeol sitting on a beach, having a beer together at sundown flashing through his mind. He means his statement as a response to Chanyeol’s original proposal, but realizes as soon as the words leave his mouth that it sounds like he was responding to the latter statement.

“That anxious to get me naked?” Chanyeol teases with a raised eyebrow, his voice dips low and it’s more humorous than seductive. 

Baekhyun reaches across the center console to backhand Chanyeol in the chest. “Shut up.” He can hear the nerves in his laughter. “I was saying I want to _go on a trip_. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“So you don’t want to get me naked?” Chanyeol mock-pouts, leaning over the gear shift to the passenger side of the truck.

“Oh, my God.” Slumping in his seat and running his hands over his face in exasperation, Baekhyun groans. “I can’t win with you, can I?”

He hears a chuckle. Then there’s a warm finger tracing along his cheek ever so gently. “You’re already a winner, Byun. You won _me_.”

That statement is enough to force Baekhyun to raise his head once again, taking in Chanyeol’s shit eating grin head on. 

“Gross. Get off me. Now.” 

Chanyeol laughs to himself the entire drive back to Baekhyun’s apartment.

* * *

The final order to be placed before the grand opening is for the coffee cups and to-go sleeves. Somehow, Sehun manages to put it off until the last minute, even with Chanyeol reminding him every day. As such, Baekhyun and Sehun are forced into a late night at the cafe, uploading the logos and formatting the images to fit on the cups. Sehun runs calculations while Baekhyun double checks the resolution and Pantone colors.

Seeing his own logo on the pixelated coffee cups is more than a little exciting, he can only imagine how fulfilled he’ll feel when the digital cups become tangible objects in the cafe. 

It takes them a good two hours after everyone else has left to wrap up. Baekhyun blames most of that on Sehun’s continued “stretching breaks” which are actually excuses for him to pull out his phone or to tease Baekhyun about Chanyeol, trying to figure out all the dirty details. 

While Baekhyun doesn’t give in to Sehun’s pouting and pushing, he actually kind of enjoys the exchange. Mostly because Sehun is just so… accepting of everything. He says the words ‘Chanyeol hyung,’ ‘Baekhyun hyung,’ and ‘kissing’ in the same sentence, like that’s how it’s supposed to be.

Baekhyun supposes he’s known about Chanyeol for a long time, so he’s used to teasing his hyung about the men he’s interested in, the men he dates. But, he appreciates Sehun’s blatant acceptance all the same. He almost wants to use the opportunity to figure out some of Chanyeol’s secrets -- like the rumor about Do Kyungsoo in high school -- but it also doesn’t seem fair. Chanyeol and Sehun have some kind of bro-code going, and he’s in no place to violate it, no matter how curious he may be. He can always just ask Chanyeol. 

They high five once the order’s all placed, and Baekhyun can finally close his laptop with a relieved sigh. Staring at pixels for so long is tiring. 

“Ready to head out?” Sehun asks as he cleans up their cups of instant coffee. Sehun’s gonna be up all night based on how many cups Baekhyun’s watched him drink this evening. Which brings another thought to mind. Sehun didn’t bring his scooter today, which means he’s probably walking home. Or, more accurately, walking to Chanyeol’s. 

“Sure.” He puts his laptop in it’s carrying case before making eye contact with Sehun. “You still staying with Chanyeol?” He asks casually. 

Sehun nods “Yup.”

Baekhyun’s curiosity gets the better of him. He knows now is his chance to figure out what’s keeping Sehun from Cheongso. Chanyeol said Sehun is okay -- and Baekhyun trusts his judgment -- but Sehun is his friend, too. He worries about him. 

“Can I ask why?” He inquires hesitantly, gauging Sehun’s reaction. 

“I suppose you would be curious.” Sehun laughs, but his smile his forced. He sits back in the booth across from Baekhyun. “You know I’m from Cheongso, right? That my parents own a rice farm there.”

Baekhyun nods.

“We aren’t... Well we’ve never been well off. My parents, they couldn’t send me to hagwon like all the other parents even though I’m an only child.”

Baekhyun can see the way Sehun squirms a little in his seat, he obviously doesn’t talk about this often. 

“When it came time for college, I didn’t think I’d go. It didn’t seem feasible, but my parents -- my _mom_ \-- insisted. She didn’t want me to not have opportunities in the future. But even vocational school is expensive.” Sehun’s face darkens. “I work and try to pay for what I can, but it really puts a strain on them. On my dad, mostly. I wouldn’t say he resents me or anything, but sometimes -- especially around the end of rice season -- he drinks too much and says things he doesn’t mean.” Sehun bites his lip. He doesn’t go into further detail, but Baekhyun can tell his father’s words flash through his mind. “Sometimes, I just need a break.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, hyung. I have good friends like Chanyeol hyung who always give me their floor.... Who offer for me to be a business partner even before my degree is finished.” He locks eyes with Baekhyun, conveying the extra meaning behind his words. Chanyeol’s always making sure everyone is included. He gave Baekhyun this job no questions asked, he let’s Sehun crash on his floor and makes him his partner at Jingnyeo because he wants Sehun happy, too. 

“So this cafe…?” Baekhyun ventures.

“This cafe is my chance to do something for them. I don’t want to run off to Seoul with my degree and leave them behind. I want to stay close, take some of the burden off their shoulders. If this place does well, it’ll be my chance to take care of them. For once.” 

“That’s…” Baekhyun searches for the right word. “Really admirable.” Who knew behind all the cute pouts and indignant whining, Sehun’s been working his butt off to make his parent’s life easier. He’s more like Chanyeol than Baekhyun originally thought -- always putting on a brave face, always smiling. 

“Nah.” Sehun shakes his head. “It’s what I should do, as their son.” 

Here, Baekhyun’s spent half his life trying to escape from his own mother, and there are boys like Sehun who think completely differently. Who sacrifice not because of their parents demands, but because they want to see their parents happy. It’s a sobering revelation. 

“But I do apologize for taking up Chanyeol hyung’s floor…” Sehun begins to smirk. “I’m sure you’ve been dying to get him alone in that apartment.”

Baekhyun can’t help but laugh, kicking Sehun’s shin under the table halfheartedly. Sehun snickers, and it’s such a joy to see him smile genuinely again. To see him smile even when he’s carrying so much on his shoulders.

“Don’t think I don’t see how dishevelled he looks each time you two go for one of your ‘drives,’ hyung.” 

“I thought we were having a moment here, Sehun-ah,” Baekhyun chastises, pointedly ignoring Sehun’s observation. 

“We were, but it’s so much more fun to watch you turn all red when I talk about Chanyeol hyung.”

Baekhyun feels the warmth on his cheeks and glares at Sehun.

* * *

Chanyeol’s wearing those stupid hiking pants again. Strangely, Baekhyun isn’t as perturbed as he should be. Maybe Baekhyun’s getting used to seeing them on every male in town. (Maybe it’s just because it’s Chanyeol wearing them.)

“That’s _my_ hoodie, Byun,” Chanyeol points out when he spots Baekhyun exiting his grandma's building. 

Tugging at the sleeves, Baekhyun shrugs up at Chanyeol. “It looks better on me anyway.” He’d stolen it -- or, more accurately, taken it with him with Chanyeol very much aware -- after their last too-warm encounter in the cab of Chanyeol’s truck. He likes the way it fits his shoulders perfectly, but the sleeves are a little long. Even in the dead of summer, he wants to put it on. It smells a little like the truck, and a lot like Chanyeol, and Baekhyun thinks that’s what he likes best. 

“I won’t deny that.” Chanyeol’s eyes take in all of Baekhyun, he should squirm under the scrutiny, instead he sticks out his tongue in victory. “Ready to go?”

Baekhyun hikes his overnight backpack up his shoulder and gives a firm nod. He’s been waiting for this trip all week. 

 

Chanyeol drives with more enthusiasm than usual, if possible. His legs are stretched wide to avoid bumping into the steering wheel as always, the radio blasting the same oldies Baekhyun knows he’s fond of. Today though, he has a beaming smile on his face as he speeds down the highway, anxious to get to Anmyeon-do. Baekhyun wonders how much of his excitement is rooted in the prospect of having Baekhyun all alone once they arrive. 

They quickly pass the edge of town, and Baekhyun feels free. Not that Gwangcheon has felt much like a trap as of late, but a break is more than welcome. Fresh air, new scenery, he’s excited for it all. 

Chanyeol’s window is rolled down, and the incoming breeze catches his cologne, dragging the scent over to Baekhyun’s side of the cab. Baekhyun’s just as eager to have Chanyeol all to himself. 

“I know I promised you a stress-free beach weekend…” Chanyeol begins suddenly, sounding remorseful, “But…we have to make a pit stop in Cheonan to pick up the refrigerator.” 

“Now?” Baekhyun raises a brow. Cheonan isn’t too out of the way, but the highway they’re currently on won’t take them there. He knows that much. 

“No, on the way back. I don’t want to lug a fridge around in the bed of my truck all weekend.” Fair point, Baekhyun acknowledges with a nod. “It’s also supposed to rain at some point this afternoon.” 

Right. Monsoon season is beginning. It’s great to have a break from the heat, but of course the rainy season has to begin during their weekend away. 

“That’s a shame, I was looking forward to some quality beach time,” Baekhyun pouts. 

“We’re going to Anmyeon-do, Byun. The beaches are all mud anyway.” Chanyeol laughs under his breath, “But I’m sure we’ll figure something out.” Honestly, Baekhyun doesn’t mind what they do, muddy beach or sunshine. They could stay in their pension room and watch movies for two days and he would still be satisfied.

Baekhyun reaches over to place his hand atop Chanyeol’s on the gearshift. Once he has Chanyeol’s attention, he gives him a reassuring smile. “I’m sure we will.”

 

Anmyeon-do, if possible, is even more rural than Gwangcheon. The small island is an expanse of woods, beach and the occasional gas station. Leave it to Chanyeol to choose somewhere even quieter than their hometown. Baekhyun kind of appreciates it though, if only for the refreshing change of scenery. Gwangcheon is a small, but industrial town, surrounded by nothing but rice fields. Anmyeon-do, on the other hand, is full of color, of pine trees and eccentricities. The small village buildings are all painted with vibrant colors, the pensions they pass each have a distinctive feel. It’s literally a breath of fresh air, away from everything familiar and into the calming quiet of the seaside forest.

After a small argument with the GPS (which Chanyeol loses), Chanyeol finally winds them down a narrow road directly towards the beach. Their pension is situated on a small hill, overlooking the mud left in the wake of low tide, wild grass sprouting up as a barrier between the small house and the rocky shore. Even with the storm clouds rolling in above the horizon, and the cicadas going wild in the trees, Baekhyun finds it so peaceful. 

The ahjumma who runs the pension takes to Chanyeol immediately -- as predicted. She shows them to their room with extra enthusiasm, probing questions about their visit all the while. Chanyeol mumbles something about them being on a fishing trip, while his fingers brush playfully against the back on Baekhyun’s neck. It’s their shared secret, their private get away. Baekhyun wants to slip his hand into Chanyeol’s back pocket, pull him a little closer, but he doesn’t think he can be as discreet as Chanyeol. He has to wait until the woman shows herself out.

As soon as the door clicks shut, he’s drawing Chanyeol closer. He places a quick kiss to Chanyeol’s lips and enjoys how pleasantly surprised Chanyeol looks when he pulls away. 

“I’ve wanted to do that all morning,” he admits, his lips still only a few milimeters from Chanyeol’s. 

“We have all weekend,” Chanyeol breathes out, promise laced in every word. “We can do as much kissing as you want. Or… whatever else you might want… to do….” The last part comes out as more of a nervous mumble than a request, and Baekhyun would giggle if we weren’t so caught up in the way Chanyeol’s lips move as they form the words. 

“I want...” Baekhyun begins, playfully training his fingertips down Chanyeol’s front. He can feel the way the muscles tense under his touch, how Chanyeol’s breath becomes more shallow while his eyes remain intently focused on Baekhyun. 

“Hmm?” Chanyeol hums playfully, waiting for Baekhyun to close the distance between their lips again. 

The knock against the door pulls them apart just moments before the little ahjumma is poking her head in once again. 

“Will you be joining us for dinner?” She asks, completely oblivious to the scene happening five seconds before. 

Baekhyun smiles his most cordial smile, and it’s quickly reciprocated. Maybe Chanyeol’s ahjumma charms are rubbing off on him. “No, not tonight. We packed some food to cook. But thank you.”

“No problem. But if you two plan on fishing or exploring, I suggest you do it now before the rain starts,” she informs them sweetly. 

They spend the remainder of their afternoon on Kkotji beach as it’s only a few kilometers from their pension. Chanyeol had read somewhere that it boasts a pleasant sunset, and he’s anxious to see it. They decide to not try their hand at fishing, and instead meander the length of the beach, teasing the small children who can’t seem to run in straight lines and the mothers who chase after them with bottles of sunblock. 

“My sister’s getting married soon,” Chanyeol says after they observe a toddler fall face first into the sand. “I guess someday she’ll be one of these moms running after a crying kid, trying to keep it from darting into the ocean.” 

“Really? I didn’t even know she was engaged,” Baekhyun says, observing the way his footprints disappear in the sand alongside Chanyeol’s larger ones. 

“It’s a recent development. He’s a good guy though, I approve. He’ll be good to her.” 

“Well, I should hope so. Otherwise you might attack him with violently colored ahjussi pants,” Baekhyun teases. He almost reaches for Chanyeol’s hand, but remembers they are in public and there’s only so much skinship he can get away with. 

Chanyeol groans. “After that stunt you all pulled, that horse is dead, Baekhyun. You can put down the stick.” 

Baekhyun laughs under his breath, scanning Chanyeol up and down. His gaze is probably too fond, but he doesn’t mind Chanyeol catching it. “You say that, but I still see you in hiking pants. You have so much yet to learn.”

“Do you really not like the pants?” Chanyeol stops in place, forcing Baekhyun to stop with him. He doesn’t sound offended, just curious. 

He has to think for a moment. No, he doesn’t mind the pants, or the colors, or any other ridiculous fashion faux pas Chanyeol commits daily. They’re all just part of _Chanyeol_. But he will say, he thinks Chanyeol also looks great in a pair of tight jeans and a button up. 

“Nah.” Baekhyun smiles playfully, watching as Chanyeol’s face falls. “I just like you too much to care at this point.”

It’s Chanyeol who ends up reaching for Baekhyun’s hand, running his thumb along the palm and giving him one of signature lopsided smiles. Baekhyun doesn’t have time to care about who might be watching them when Chanyeol looks at him like that. 

They never get to watch the sunset, because the looming rainstorm finally catches up to them. Hands still linked, Baekhyun tugs Chanyeol back to the safety of his truck by the hand, laughing maniacally all the way. 

 

The storm doesn’t let up into the early evening. Not when they prepare dinner in the small kitchenette, and not while they’re quietly sitting on the balcony afterward. It’s soothing, the sound of the rain mixed with Chanyeol’s deep bellows of laughter as Baekhyun shares stories of his time in Seoul. 

Though there’s promise of what the night holds, neither are really in a rush to get there. Having each other’s company, sharing a beer and laughter is more than enough entertainment. Sure, Baekhyun’s looking forward to the potential of their first night together, but he’s also content just like this, sitting on the balcony of their room, listening to the rainfall of early evening and not thinking about anything else other than each other’s company. It’s enough, more than enough.

There’s so much about Chanyeol he has yet to learn. Chanyeol has a way of seeming familiar to everyone, while actually divulging very little about his life. He wears his passions on his sleeve, but his secrets never slip out in casual conversation. 

“When was the last time you left Gwangcheon?” Baekhyun asks when they’re on their second beer.

Chanyeol has to think about it for a minute. “Sehun and I go camping sometimes, but we never go too far. I guess the last time I really left was when I went to Busan to visit my sister about a year ago.”

“How was that?” Baekhyun’s always liked Busan; it’s a less stressful version of Seoul. All the same amenities, half the hustle and bustle. He and Joonmyun had spent some of their winter vacation there their final year in school, and it’s one of his best memories. 

“Honestly?” Chanyeol laughs. “It was kind of overwhelming. I spent most of the time in my sister’s apartment when she was at work… I didn’t know anyone, and everything was so unfamiliar, you know? I’m used to walking down the street and knowing most people by name. You can’t do that in Busan. My sister doesn’t even know her neighbors.”

Chanyeol sounds completely flabbergasted by the fact, but Baekhyun can hear the underlying vulnerability. He supposes that, coming from Gwangcheon, Busan would be overwhelming. So many people, so much city to navigate. He remembers when he first moved to Seoul and everything seemed too big for him to handle. But he was fourteen when he had moved away. He had adjusted. City life is intuitive to him the way country life is to Chanyeol -- who has never lived anywhere else.

Another question hits him. “Why didn’t you ever leave?” 

Though it’s a vague, Chanyeol understands immediately.

“There was no reason for me to go anywhere else,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. Setting his beer on the bench, Chanyeol shifts his position to face Baekhyun. “Everyone who left had something to leave _for_ , be it university, a new job, a girlfriend, I don’t know… but for me, everything I needed was right there. It still is.”

“Don’t you ever get bored of it though?” Baekhyun asks quietly, tracing a pattern against the back of Chanyeol’s hand with his thumb.

Chanyeol laughs lightly. “Sure, it gets boring. But city life is boring, too. You wake up, go to work, come home, rinse and repeat. I guess I never saw the need to perform the same routine anywhere else.”

Though Baekhyun understands what Chanyeol means, he still can’t quite empathize. All his life he’s been taught that if he studies hard and works even harder, he can get out of their town, get a good job in the city, buy a nice apartment and be content. Seoul has always been the goal, the mark of success. Chanyeol’s complacency with the status quo baffles him a little. 

Chanyeol’s dreams though, are to stay close; to be part of the town his father loved so much, the town he knows like the back of his hand. He admires Chanyeol, in that respect -- always knowing what he wants, not feeling the pressing need to prove something to anyone. 

They fall into silence. Baekhyun tries to think of exactly what his dream -- his baby -- is now. What is he trying to prove? Worse yet, who is he trying to please?

“All I ever wanted to do was draw,” he starts to think out loud, “I had so many secret sketchbooks growing up. Ones I’d hide from my mother under my mattress, the ones I’d sketch in during hagwon when I couldn’t pay attention. I was so lucky my mother agreed to fund college for a communications design degree. I spent so much time convincing her it could be a real career, when in reality it was just an excuse to draw more -- on my own terms. 

“I… I never thought I’d come back. Even if it was just temporary,” Baekhyun finally admits, realizing where his thoughts are leading him. “It feels like I’m backtracking, not living up to my full potential by working at the family restaurant and living off my mother at the age of twenty five.”

Chanyeol squeezes his palm, reminding Baekhyun to breathe.

“Nothing’s wrong with taking a break from life every now and then,” Chanyeol says quietly. “Maybe all the jobs you tried to get in Seoul weren’t for you. Maybe the time away from Seoul gave you time to remind yourself what you really want.” 

Baekhyun knows that it’s true. The only issue is, now the two things he wants are seemingly pulling him in two different directions. A career in Seoul, Chanyeol and his friends in Gwangcheon. He does his best to push the thought aside for the evening. He doesn’t need to think about it now. 

“I never applied for any jobs,” he admits a few moments later. It’s a secret he’s never shared with anyone, not Joonmyun, not Jongdae, certainly not his mother. 

“What?”

Baekhyun draws a heavy breath, knowing the weight of what he’s about to share.

“When graduation was approaching, I read all the job postings, edited my resumé. I even dyed my hair back to black just have resumé photos taken and photoshopped to high heaven. But whenever I saw a job listing, even if I was interested, I just couldn’t bring myself to send in my resumé."

Chanyeol eyes Baekhyun without judgement, without any push for him to continue. But he wants to. He wants to tell _someone_. He wants to tell Chanyeol things he’s never told anyone, because it may have only been a short while since they met again, but he trusts Chanyeol’s eyes to never look at him any differently. He won’t be judged, he won’t be turned away. 

“I just, for once, didn’t want to do everything on schedule, by the book. I certainly didn’t want to move back home, but I thought maybe things could happen for me without having to work my ass off for a change. However stupid that sounds. I just… I didn’t want to push myself in any direction. I wanted someone to approach _me_ , say they wanted me.”

Everything falls quiet for a few breaths, and Baekhyun can’t look up to read Chanyeol’s face for a reaction. Baekhyun feels relief, finally voicing it all out. He feels the comfort of Chanyeol’s hand in his own, reassurance in the way Chanyeol only grips tighter in the wake of his confession.

“ _I_ want you.” Chanyeol finally fills the silence between them. The words are laced with so much meaning and Baekhyun’s lungs feel too full. Chanyeol wants him, just _him_. 

When he thinks about it, Chanyeol has never not wanted him, his company. He put faith in Baekhyun before Baekhyun even had faith in himself. 

He doesn’t waste a second before tugging Chanyeol by the hand from the wood bench and pulling them both towards their shared room. 

 

The sparsely furnished pension is dark, empty save their few overnight bags and the tension in the air.

With their hands still linked, Baekhyun turns to kiss Chanyeol fully and slowly. He reaches to run his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair and realizes how much it’s grown out since the first time he daringly let his hand play with the man’s hair that drunken night at the noraebang. Back when touching Chanyeol’s body was nothing more than a friendly curiosity. 

Now, each of his touches is filled with meaning, with appreciation and desire all wrapped up in affection. He wants Chanyeol, too. In every way, and the thought scares him a bit. 

There’s no rush as Chanyeol moves to deepen the kiss, his tongue tracing into Baekhyun’s mouth. They have all the time in the world to explore as his hand secures itself on Baekhyun’s hip, kneading the skin beneath his shirt with his thumb. Baekhyun doesn’t try to hold back the contented sigh he releases, Chanyeol’s hands on him so warm. He can feel the tug of Chanyeol’s lips into a smile against his own. 

_God_ , he hasn’t been kissed like this in a long time. Maybe not ever. 

Baekhyun’s hands venture to the hemline of Chanyeol’s shirt, up underneath the fabric. Chanyeol’s abdominal muscles tense with the sensation of his fingertips against the bare skin. He lets his lips move away from Chanyeol’s mouth, along his jaw and down the side of his neck. He’s too grown up to leave a trail of hickeys down the man’s neck, but he doesn’t resist biting occasionally along the way -- the way Chanyeol’s breath hitches each time he does so egging him on all the more. 

There’s too much fabric between himself and Chanyeol’s skin. He lifts the bottom of Chanyeol’s shirt, Chanyeol instantly reading the cue and withdrawing his hands in favor of helping Baekhyun along. Even in the barely lit room, Baekhyun can make out the tan lines of Chanyeol’s skin. If he weren’t so eager to taste, he might tease Chanyeol about the stark difference between the color of his arms and the color of his bare chest. 

Instead, he moves his lips back to map all the new territory. Chanyeol’s collarbones prove to be an especially sensitive point, if the way Chanyeol’s hands squeeze harder on his ass is any indication. He can only appreciate the taste of Chanyeol’s skin for so long before the man is tugging at Baekhyun’s shirt, wanting him to be just as bare. 

There’s no rush, but Baekhyun takes the opportunity to undo his belt as well. Chanyeol’s hands hover over his own, both of them trying to rid Baekhyun of his pants while not allowing their lips to separate from each other’s skin. 

With their pants gone, they fall onto the bed. It’s a little clumsy between the lankiness of Chanyeol’s limbs and Baekhyun’s own excitement -- _they’re really going to do this_. The more traditional bed doesn’t exactly accommodate the force of their tumble, either. Chanyeol grunts before chuckling and cursing the mattress.

Baekhyun, hovering over Chanyeol, takes a moment to just _look_ at him. He’s handsome, Baekhyun’s always known. But there’s something about the look in his eyes, the way his now-shaggy hair fans out against the sheets, that has Baekhyun’s heart beating in double time. He’s not nervous, per se, he feels more than secure. It’s rather that Chanyeol stirs something within him, making him want to capture this small moment, the smile on Chanyeol’s lips, and keep it to himself forever. 

Chanyeol pulls him back down by his hips, and the sensation of skin against skin is maddening. They’re both half-hard, and everything between them is so _warm_. Baekhyun’s more than happy to let Chanyeol roll them over and take the lead, let his hands wander around the subtle curves of his own body. He too lets his hands and lips trace along the firm skin of Chanyeol’s abdomen. 

He wants to touch Chanyeol not just because he _can_ , but because he wants to know what each inch of skin feels like beneath his fingertips. He wants to memorize the cadence of Chanyeol’s moans, and taste his skin. More than anything, he wants to touch Chanyeol with purpose, wants to convey every bit of emotion he can't put into words. His fingertips inspect Chanyeol's body like somehow touching, feeling, enough will bring the right words to his tongue. 

A palm rubs against his crotch, and Baekhyun encourages Chanyeol to keep going with a whine into his neck. He realizes Chanyeol is learning things about his body, too. He’s always been a little embarrassed about how responsive he can be, but with Chanyeol it’s the last thought on his mind. He wants Chanyeol to know what feels good, what he’d like him to do again. 

His own hand ventures inside Chanyeol’s boxers. Well, it tries to. His thumb catches on the elastic as he tries to slip his hand inside without breaking their kiss. He groans in frustration, and Chanyeol chuckles, lifting himself a little to give Baekhyun easier access. He succeeds on the second attempt, and Chanyeol’s teasing chuckle against his lips is quickly replaced by a gasp when Baekhyun finally manages to wrap his fingers around Chanyeol. 

The weight of Chanyeol in his palm is both exhilarating and intimidating. Baekhyun knows he’s generally pretty good at this, but it’s difficult to be artful with a handjob when Chanyeol is crowding his every thought; technique is the last thing on his mind when Chanyeol’s lips are doing such wonderful things against his own. 

“You really... like kissing.” He laughs out, trying to find his bearings in the sea of feelings Chanyeol is stirring with him. 

“Says the man who made me pull over so he could attack my mouth on the side of the road.”

A giggle bubbles over at the mention of that night. Baekhyun had been in such a rush, consumed with such need. Tonight though, there’s no real hurry. He has time to appreciate everything without a steering wheel digging into his back and oncoming traffic to worry about. 

Baekhyun’s hand slides out of Chanyeol’s boxers when the man shimmies down kiss around his stomach. It tickles, but it also feels spectacular. Baekhyun watches the shortness of his own breath as his ribs move up and down above Chanyeol’s head. His fingers automatically move to card through the tresses of hair, and he feels the way Chanyeol exhales in satisfaction above his belly button before dipping his tongue in and making Baekhyun squirm with laughter.

“You have a great laugh,” Chanyeol observes, and the warmth of his words set Baekhyun’s nerves on end. “You didn’t laugh a lot at first,” he mumbles in between kisses that fall lower and lower on Baekhyun’s abdomen. “But then, that night when I kept sneezing, you _really_ laughed.” Another kiss to his hipbone. “And I thought you really looked happy, beautiful even.”

“I _was_ happy,” Baekhyun says breathlessly, remembering how free -- how accepted -- he’d felt that first night out. Chanyeol had welcomed him so easily, made him laugh for the first time in weeks. And now that same man is here, kissing each centimeter of his body with such fondness that he can’t help but smile. “You made me happy.”

Chanyeol’s lips pause and he locks eyes with Baekhyun. “Likewise.” 

There’s so much that Baekhyun wants to decipher in Chanyeol’s gaze, but his contemplation is cut short by the slide of Chanyeol’s hand inside his boxers. Baekhyun’s already fully hard, and Chanyeol sets a slow pace -- working his hand up and down languidly, twisting to rub his thumb across the head. He uses his free hand to tug Baekhyun’s boxers further down and Baekhyun is fully bare. 

Baekhyun watches through half lidded eyes as Chanyeol’s gaze flickers between watching his hand work and taking in the contorted pleasure on Baekhyun’s face. He can only hold his gaze for so long before Chanyeol’s hand grips tighter and his eyes scrunch shut. It’s different than when he touches himself, much less frantic, more hesitant. But as Baekhyun mumbles out some combination of Chanyeol’s name and praises, he can feel Chanyeol’s gain confidence. 

Chanyeol’s hand doesn’t stop working as he leans in to mouth at Baekhyun’s nipple, and Baekhyun surprises even himself with the moan he releases. All the touches are becoming too much to handle. 

“Do you want to…” Baekhyun ventures, a little desperately. Chanyeol’s hand stills as he pulls back to look at Baekhyun. “... move things along?”

It takes a moment for the vague suggestion to register fully with Chanyeol, but once it does, he’s nodding in understanding. “Yeah… I can do that.” Chanyeol half smiles. 

“Do you have anything to...?” Baekhyun hadn’t thought to buy lube, much less to pack it. Thankfully, Chanyeol is always prepared. 

“Just a sec.” 

Chanyeol pulls away and hops off the bed. His eagerness makes his motions all the more clumsy as Baekhyun watches his silhouette dig through his overnight bag. He returns to the bed with a proud smile on his face and a small bottle and condom packet in his hand. 

“I had to order this stuff off the internet…” he comments, throwing his weight back on the bed with a half-assed attempt at grace. “Good thing they had express shipping.”

“Been that long?” Baekhyun teases. His eyes have adjusted to the darkness, he can see all of Chanyeol now; the faint indentations of his abs, the way his collar bone protrudes from his chest, the muscles that flex as he moves to hover over Baekhyun. 

“It’s, uh, been a while so I —“ Even in the dark, Baekhyun can see that Chanyeol’s cheeks are so, so red and he can’t resist smiling fondly while he runs the pads of his fingers along them, taking in the warm flush of Chanyeol’s skin. “I might not last —”

“Don’t worry.” Baekhyun cranes his neck up to mouth at Chanyeol’s bottom lip, cutting Chanyeol's stuttering short. “I’ve seen you try to climb a mountain, I’m not expecting the stamina of an Olympian.” 

Chanyeol’s hands move quickly to take a gentle, but commanding, grip of both Baekhyun’s wrists and before he knows what’s happening his arms are pinned above his head, Chanyeol’s weight falling against him. 

“That sounds an awful lot like a challenge,” Chanyeol warns lowly, “I’d be careful if I were you. It’s been a while, yes, but that means that I know how to use my own hand to get the job done myself.” Chanyeol presses even closer, warm breath fanning against Baekhyun’s ear, tickling every nerve in his body. “Is that what you want?” 

While the idea of Chanyeol touching himself stirs something inside Baekhyun, that is most definitely not what he wants. Not now, at least. 

Apparently he takes too long to answer, because Chanyeol begins to raise himself from Baekhyun's body in challenge. 

No, he wants the weight of Chanyeol between his hips, his lips against his skin. He quickly manages a sound somewhere between a plea and a moan, and it appears to be enough because Chanyeol’s body presses against him once again.

“Good.” Chanyeol lets go of Baekhyun’s wrists in favor of picking up the bottle of lube. “Because I’ve wanted you like this for so long, I don’t think my own hand could do it justice.” Chanyeol kisses behind his ear before popping the cap. 

“You’ve thought about this?” 

Chanyeol gives him as incredulous a look as he can manage while simultaneously taking in Baekhyun’s naked body. “ _Baekhyun_.” He really loves when Chanyeol says his first name like that. “I’ve thought about this since the first time I watched you laugh your way up a mountain. I didn’t even care that you were teasing me, your ass was that nice.”

“Oh, so it’s only my ass you’re after?” Baekhyun falls back into the pillows and Chanyeol follows. 

“Your ass.” Chanyeol kisses his temple while his hand reaches to squeeze his butt. 

“Your attention.” Fingers graze against the exposed flesh of his stomach, tempting goosebumps in their wake.

“Your _heart_.”

It’s all so horribly cheesy, but the lips above his heart, the exploratory caresses of Chanyeol’s lubed fingers towards his opening is too much. The emotion laced in every word is even more dizzying. Chanyeol wants him, and he too wants Chanyeol. 

His attention, his stupid laughter, his drunken sneezes, all of it. 

Baekhyun winces at the intrusion of the first finger. It’s been awhile since his last drunken hook-up in Itaewon, even longer since he’s been the one being stretched open. But this isn’t just anyone, this is Park Chanyeol: a missed connection of his past who exploded into his life with his simple desires and flirtatious smiles that — though they are abundant — make Baekhyun feel special. He doesn’t have to chase the man currently trailing his lips up and down the expanse of Baekhyun’s neck. Chanyeol had just happened. For once, something good came to Baekhyun without hours of working his ass off. 

Chanyeol distracts Baekhyun with kisses to his stomach as he adds the second finger. “That first night... When we were stuck together and you licked me...” His lips move to the line of Baekhyun’s hips. “I wanted to touch you back, but I could barely move. Not with the way your lips felt… not with how much alcohol I had in me.”

Baekhyun barely remembers that night, but he does remember how satisfying Chanyeol’s exhales had been when his drunken mind got the better of him. Now his lips have tasted the same skin sober, and Baekhyun think it’s even more satisfying this time around. 

“The next morning, you acted like nothing happened, so I wrote it off as a weird drunk habit…” Chanyeol says quietly, scissoring his fingers gently, taking his time stretching Baekhyun. 

“...But you’ve been making me crazy ever since.” 

Chanyeol’s fingers finally brush against his prostate, and Baekhyun barely manages to breathe out a “likewise” in between his moans. He could probably come just like this -- with Chanyeol’s fingers inside him and the vibrations of his voice along his skin -- but he wants more. 

Baekhyun’s hands run through Chanyeol’s hair, tugging to earn his attention. “I’m ready.” 

The slide in is slow, Chanyeol pressing his weight into Baekhyun while arching over to kiss him fully, properly. Even with all the prep and lube, the stretch burns. Baekhyun’s breaths feel shallow as he tries to adjust to being so full, to take in the fact that it’s Chanyeol inside of him. Finally. 

Chanyeol’s in no hurry either, distracting Baekhyun with kisses until Baekhyun tells him it’s okay to move with a playful slap against his butt. Their bodies stay pressed together as Chanyeol rolls his hips slowly, experimentally. It’s so intimate the way that Chanyeol tucks his elbows undeath Baekhyun’s arms, pulling Baekhyun flush against him so that he can mouth at his neck. 

It’s disorienting, how intimate this feels. First times are supposed to be awkward, filled with fumbling. But even if it takes them moments, some adjustments, to find a rhythm, he never feels out of sync with Chanyeol. 

Baekhyun arches off the mattress when Chanyeol picks up the pace; Chanyeol’s fingers immediately find their way to the small of his back, holding him closer. Chanyeol is always loud, but not like this. Now, he only sounds he emits are breathless whispers of Baekhyun’s name, low moans in his throat, contented sighs.

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol says weakly. His thrusts are becoming more erratic, and Baekhyun already knows the words about to fall from his lips, “I’m gonna come.”

He reaches up to wipe the hair matted to Chanyeol’s forehead. He’s trying so hard to hold out, to get Baekhyun off, too. It’s sweet, but Baekhyun can see how gone Chanyeol is, how close he is to coming undone. The pure need in Chanyeol’s eyes is enough for Baekhyun to think of nothing other than watching the man climax above him, just like this. 

“Then, come. It’s okay.” 

Chanyeol manages four more thrusts, his lips mouthing the silent syllables of Baekhyun’s name, before his weight falls against Baekhyun. His hips jerk a few more times as he rides out the remainder of his orgasm, and his body goes slack. His breath is heavy against Baekhyun’s pulse point. 

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Chanyeol sounds so satiated but also guilty. 

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun repeats sincerely, even if they both can feel how hard Baekhyun still is between them. Watching Chanyeol’s eyes squint shut, watching his own name fall from his lips, had only turned him on more. 

“Let me take care of you.” 

Baekhyun barely has a moment to register what’s happening when Chanyeol pulls out, unsheathing himself with a second wave of energy. He only feels empty for a moment before Chanyeol’s fingers slide back inside of him and his mouth is enveloping the head Baekhyun’s length. Instantly, Baekhyun’s back arches off the mattress and he has to bite down on his lip to hold in a cry of pleasure. 

Chanyeol is pretty tactless with his mouth, inexperience showing, but his determination makes up for it. His fingers thrust in and out mercilessly and Baekhyun has to use every ounce of willpower to not thrust too hard into Chanyeol’s mouth as he tries to press against his fingers. All his mind can think is more, more, more, and he knows he won’t last too long like this. 

It’s only a few moments before Chanyeol finds his spot and Baekhyun’s fingers claw at the sheets. Chanyeol’s fingers feel so good inside of him, bulkier than his own with just the right amount of pressure against his prostate. 

“I’m close,” Baekhyun tries to warn and give Chanyeol enough time to pull away. Instead, it has the opposite effect, Chanyeol engulfing him fully with a hard suck while his fingers push relentlessly into the same spot. 

Baekhyun comes like that, with a shout of Chanyeol’s name and his hand tugging at the pillow beneath his head. When he opens his eyes, he sees Chanyeol sitting up on his knees, wiping his mouth with a proud smile on his face.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Baekhyun laughs, realizing that Chanyeol swallowed everything. 

“I wanted to. Plus, it’s cleaner this way. We won’t be leaving any mystery stains behind.”

Baekhyun hadn’t thought about that. “Good point.” They’ve spared the poor ahjumma the shock of her life tomorrow afternoon. 

“You taste good too, I don’t mind,” Chanyeol whispers with a laugh. He leans down to press a quick kiss to Baekhyun’s temple but pulls away before Baekhyun can pull him down for a proper kiss.“But I am going to brush my teeth before we cuddle.”

“I’ll be waiting,” Baekhyun giggles as he curls into the sheets to appreciate Chanyeol’s flat butt as he pads off to the bathroom. 

 

It’s strange to think about the fact that he just had sex with Park Chanyeol, but at the same time it’s not. It felt so natural to have Chanyeol inside of him, the same way it feels completely right to have naked Chanyeol pressed up against him, spooning him as they come down from their high to the soundtrack of the rain outside. 

“I have something to confess,” Chanyeol mumbles, face nuzzled between Baekhyun’s shoulder blades. With each syllable his lips tickle along the gooseflesh of Baekhyun’s back.

“For the love of God, please don’t confess that you’ve thought about this since middle school or something because I am not ready for that amount of sentimentality right now.”

Chanyeol chuckles, angling his head so his breath hits Baekhyun’s nape.

“I can’t say that’s where I was headed, I was more interested in ferrets than other boys at that point in my life. But I’d be lying if I said I didn’t admire you back then.”

Baekhyun cranes his neck awkwardly in an attempt to make eye contact. “Oh?”

“Sure.” Chanyeol laughs casually, fingers beginning to dance along Baekhyun’s hip. “But you were a busy boy, you barely had time to sleep, much less befriend the class delinquent.”

“I would hardly have called you a delinquent, Park. Getting caught smoking once doesn’t quite brand you a 'bad boy.'”

“Hush,” Chanyeol whispers, placing another tender kiss to Baekhyun’s shoulder before kissing him again on the lips.

“So what do you have to confess, then?”

Chanyeol heaves a deep breath. “When Jongdae visited.... I was maybe a bit jealous.”

It takes a moment for the words to sink in, but once they do, Baekhyun’s laughing in disbelief. “Jealous? Of Jongdae?”

He can feel Chanyeol’s embarrassed shrug as he tightens his hold on Baekhyun. “You were just so comfortable with him, all cuddly and cute. I don’t know. I wished you could be like that with me, too.”

“But you’re always touching everyone,” Baekhyun points out. “It’s not like I didn’t let you hug me or something.”

“With Jongdae though, it was so natural. You looked so content with him there. I don’t know. It was dumb, cause I know you’re just really good friends. But that was also when I realized I _liked_ you. That I wanted you to be like that with me, but also let me kiss you and stuff, too.”

“Kiss me and stuff?” Baekhyun mimics with a laugh. It sounds so PG given everything they had just done together. 

“Shush.” Chanyeol moves to tickle his neck, but Baekhyun is quicker, rolling over to face Chanyeol head on. He has a few questions spurred on by Jongdae’s visit, too. Pillow talk is probably the most opportune moment to voice them.

“So, Do Kyungsoo…” He begins tentatively, watching the confusion flash through Chanyeol’s eyes. 

“Do Kyungsoo?” Chanyeol echoes, obviously familiar with the name, but wondering why it’s falling from Baekhyun’s lips. 

“Back in school, there was this rumor…." 

Realization flashes through Chanyeol’s eyes. “Jongdae told you, I assume?”

Baekhyun nods. “Just that there was a rumor, not anything else....”

“Well...” Chanyeol situates himself on his side, reaching to trace a finger along Baekhyun’s exposed shoulder. He’s always touching. Baekhyun can’t tell if it’s a force of habit or a way of calming down his own nerves before he explains. “Kyungsoo and I dated in high school. Secretly, obviously.”

“But people found out?” They must have, if Jongdae knew about it. 

“Someone saw us together at a noraebang. Nothing scandalous. When people asked, I just shrugged it off. It was better for both of us.” 

Baekhyun can understand that. No good could have come out of being openly gay in high school, especially in Gwangcheon. He’s kind of amazed Chanyeol even had the guts to date another boy secretly at that age. Though Baekhyun had known he’s gay since high school, he hadn’t attempted to date until late in college, too afraid of someone finding out. Joonmyun had been only the second person he’d told after Jongdae, and it took him two years to do that. 

“Did you… love him?” Baekhyun asks quietly, unsure of why he sounds so nervous. 

“Of course,” Chanyeol says so confidently. “He was my first love, I guess. We broke up before he left for college and I left for the military. We said we’d be in touch, but… it just sort of dissolved from there. I see his updates on Facebook every now and then and wish him well.”

“And since…? Anyone else?” Baekhyun wonders if it’s wrong to envy the people Chanyeol once gave his heart to. It’s not like he’s been single his whole life or anything, either. Even if he got a slightly later start. 

Chanyeol raises an eyebrow. “Baekhyun, have you seen our town? Who would I date?” It’s a pretty fair point, but Gwangcheon isn’t entirely without its singles scene, especially with the college nearby. 

“So you’re saying Do Kyungsoo was your only love?” 

“Now, I never said _that_. But aside from innocently flirting with ahjummas, I don’t see a lot of action in our little town.” Chanyeol’s hand traces silly patterns against Baekhyun’s stomach, and it’s more than a little distracting. 

“It’s not just ahjummas, you flirt with _everything_ ,” Baekhyun huffs out, “I swear I even saw you make goo-goo eyes at the stray dog that hangs out by the elementary school.”

“That’s just being friendly. And I can’t help that the ahjummas give me free food.” Chanyeol rolls himself completely atop Baekhyun. His breath hitches a little when Chanyeol leans in to press their foreheads together with a smug grin. “Why, you jealous?"

“Shut up.”

Chanyeol’s idea of shutting up involves a lot of kissing, and Baekhyun can’t find it in himself to complain.

* * *

Baekhyun had expected Chanyeol to rise with the sun in the morning. Finding him asleep, tucked into Baekhyun’s side and snoring lightly, is more than a pleasant surprise -- one that stirs a new wave of inexplicable contentment within him. They hadn’t bothered to put on clothes before they drifted off to sleep, Baekhyun is reminded with the press of Chanyeol’s morning wood into his thigh.

He takes a moment to look at Chanyeol, take him in under the rays of early morning sunlight. It should be a little creepy the way Chanyeol’s eyes don’t fully close in his sleep, but Baekhyun just adds it to his list of Chanyeol’s quirks that somehow make him even cuter. He likes that Chanyeol -- even with his handsome face and deep voice -- is imperfect. Dorky even. 

A smile creeps on his lips as he runs his hand along Chanyeol’s forehead, admiring the small bump in his nose and brushing some stray hairs out of the way. 

In his sleep, Chanyeol leans into the touch with a pleased sigh, nuzzling even closer into Baekhyun and making him giggle. At the sound, Chanyeol stirs awake and his eyes blink open. It takes him a moment to register where he is, but the sleepy smile he throws Baekhyun lets him know that Chanyeol is just as content about waking up like this -- together and unhurried.

“Good morning,” Baekhyun whispers, holding Chanyeol’s sleepy gaze. Generally, Baekhyun is not a morning person -- it takes him about an hour to become _Baekhyun_. -- but he could get used to waking up at 8:30 like this everyday. 

“Good morning indeed,” Chanyeol says playfully, running his eyes along Baekhyun’s exposed torso. He kisses the skin of Baekhyun’s pectoral. “Great morning,” he corrects in the next breath. 

“Stop it,” Baekhyun tries, but he already knows what’s coming as Chanyeol rolls atop him to kiss him fully. “I haven’t brushed my teeth yet,” he whines. He doesn’t really care though. 

“Best morning ever.” Chanyeol punctuates each word with a kiss: his nose, his temple, his lips. 

Gone is all the sleepiness from minutes before, Chanyeol’s lips and other body parts coming alive as Baekhyun lets him kiss him senseless. He can tell exactly what Chanyeol has on his mind as his hands begin to wander, and Baekhyun isn’t at all opposed to lazy morning sex; a fact he lets Chanyeol know with a playful squeeze of his butt. 

Just when things are warming up, a thought hits Baekhyun. 

“Check out. What time is check out?” Baekhyun manages to ask as Chanyeol lays a series of kisses along his torso. 

“Eleven.” 

Baekhyun checks the time on his phone and sighs in relief. “We have two hours.”

Chanyeol wiggles his eyebrows. “We can do a lot in two hours.”

“Oh really?” Baekhyun plays innocent, like he wasn’t just rutting against Chanyeol thirty seconds ago. “What do you have in mind?”

“I don’t know... “ Chanyeol muses, equally coy. “Making out is definitely on the list though… maybe more. I can see I’m not the only one with morning wood.”

“Stop staring at my dick like that, it’s creepy.”

Chanyeol bellows with laughter, and it’s loud, exactly the way Baekhyun loves most. “Okay, okay.”

Baekhyun pulls Chanyeol back in for another kiss before any more comments about his dick can fall from his lips. It’s sweet and languid, hands grazing skin but without any pressing need to push things forward quickly. Maybe someday they’ll have frantic lust-driven sex, but for now, Baekhyun values this pace. He likes that they can both take their time to just appreciate each other. Sure, getting off is still a priority, but just being with each other is also enough. 

Even with his limited dating experience in Seoul, Baekhyun’s never had something quite like this -- he’s never known someone quite like Chanyeol. He’s liked guys before, been with men, but he’s never just wanted to pass the time with someone the way he does with Chanyeol. They could kiss or do more and both are equally enjoyable because it’s Chanyeol he’s in the company of.

He finally realizes the name of foreign sentiment he’s been trying to verbalize in the back of his mind all weekend -- the word for the way Chanyeol makes him feel. It’s too far soon to say it for sure, but the realization is enough to make him tug Chanyeol closer, kiss him a little deeper, and smile into his lips. 

Maybe they’re not quite there yet, but someday.

Before they can get very far along, their plans for a lazy morning are cut short with a knocking on their room door. Chanyeol stumbles out of bed, quickly throwing on clothes to greet the tiny pension ahjumma at the door. Of course she wants them to come down for breakfast, and _of course_ she wants to tell Chanyeol all about her young, single daughter.

Baekhyun scowls at the back of Chanyeol’s head as he listens to him agree with a cheery laugh. He wants to walk up behind Chanyeol, wrap his arms around him and show the little ahjumma exactly how unavailable Chanyeol is -- both in this moment and in terms of attachment -- but he knows better. 

“She’s known you for less than twenty-four hours and she already wants you to marry into the family,” Baekhyun complains once Chanyeol finally shuts the door with a promise of joining in twenty minutes. 

“What can I say?” Chanyeol laughs, “I’m charming.”

“You’re tall and handsome. She doesn’t know what a dork you are yet. She’s blinded by the dimpled smile.” He’s pouting and he knows it. He supposes he had been in no place to tease Chanyeol for being jealous of Jongdae, when he’s the one getting all ruffled over ahjumma fawning. 

“Doesn’t really matter if she finds out the truth. I’m already taken, right?”

“Right,” Baekhyun confirms at the same time he realizes that no one outside of their circle of friends knows that fact. Maybe no one ever will. His face falls against his will, the reality of it all sinking in. 

“What’s wrong?” Chanyeol asks as he sits on the edge of the bed, studying the change in Baekhyun’s mood. “We don’t have to go to breakfast if you don’t want to.”

“It’s not that.” Baekhyun plays with the sheets. He draws a deep breath. “It’s just hard sometimes, you know? Not being… open about it.” 

Chanyeol understands immediately, his arm moving to wrap around Baekhyun’s shoulder. “Yeah. But all the important people know. And they don’t care.” 

Well, all the important people to Chanyeol know. Baekhyun’s never talked about his sexuality with his mother, not even his grandmother. He’s already thrown them for enough loops in his life, he’s not ready to handle disappointment for something about himself he can’t -- and has no desire to -- change. Maybe someday though, it’d be nice to just be honest about it. 

“Does your mom know?” He asks Chanyeol. “About you? About us?” 

Chanyeol smiles sheepishly, “Yeah. She caught on a while back. She already knew that I don’t… like women. When I started talking about you more and more she put two and two together.” 

“And?” 

“And she likes you, too. She’s happy for me. She just wants us to be careful. Lord knows, not everyone in town would take the news so well.”

“Right.” Baekhyun forces a half smile. Being accepted by Mama Park is as much of a relief as it is a surprise. Baekhyun can only imagine his own mother’s reaction in his mind. It’s not a pretty sight.

Chanyeol squeezes Baekhyun closer. “Maybe someday, everyone can know and it will be okay. But for now, I’d rather a few people know who are happy for me than have the judgement of strangers who don’t matter in the long run.” 

It’s a good point, Baekhyun acknowledges. But his mother -- his family -- is someone who matters in the long run to him. He wishes he could live his life openly without feeling like everything he chooses to do for himself will somehow upset her. 

 

 

Breakfast is followed by a quick gathering of their things and an extended goodbye hug with the pension ahjumma. By noon, they’re halfway to Cheonan. The heaviness of their morning conversation dissipates with the way Chanyeol sings along too loudly with the radio and the silly way he tries to dance along behind the wheel. Chanyeol is right, drives are excellent for clearing his head. 

Cheonan is by no means a big city, but it is one of the largest in the province -- the only one with a KTX station. Baekhyun’s reminded of exactly how long he’s been tucked away in the countryside when he catches himself marvelling the traffic build up at a stoplight on the edge of the city. Even the newer high rise apartments in Gwangcheon pales in comparison to the tall buildings of Cheonan. Though it takes him a couple of minutes to acclimate himself, Baekhyun feels the familiarity of city life creeping back into him.

The same cannot be said for Chanyeol, who is visibly tense behind the wheel. Even with the GPS guiding him, Baekhyun can tell that the busy streets throw Chanyeol off. His normal confident, playful demeanor is quickly replaced by clipped curses at the GPS and a confused scrunch of his eyebrows. 

He apologizes to Baekhyun with a sardonic chuckle and fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry. City traffic traffic stresses me out. Not used to it, you know?”

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to do to ease Chanyeol’s stress other than to hold his hand over the gear shift and help with navigation to the appliance store. It’s a quick pick up, and they’re out of Cheonan within forty-five minutes, but Chanyeol remains shaken for the remainder of the drive home. 

Baekhyun doesn’t think Chanyeol breathes a proper breath until their back within Gwangcheon town limits.

* * *

The call from Joonmyun comes unexpectedly the Wednesday after their return.

Sehun had managed to keep the place from burning down over the weekend, and Jingnyeo is all set to open in less than a week. Everyone’s a bit jittery, and not just because of the coffee Sehun keeps forcing them to sample while he learns to master the espresso machine. They’re in the midst of the latest round of latte tasting when Baekhyun’s phone rings and he excuses himself out back. 

“Hey Joonmyun. What’s up?” It’s been awhile since he’s heard from Joonmyun, and he supposes some of that is his fault. Phone lines work both ways. 

“ _Hey, Baek. I have some good news._ ”

“Oh yeah?” 

“ _Think you can make it to Seoul sometime soon?_ ” Baekhyun knows Joonmyun well enough to tell when his friend is trying to hold in his excitement. 

“Why?”

“ _Remember my friend, Yixing?_ ” Yixing was someone Baekhyun had been introduced to at Joonmyun’s birthday get together last year. He remembers little other than the dimples on his cheek and the way he had hugged Joonmyun so warmly upon arrival. 

“Vaguely.”

“ _I don’t know if I ever told you, but he works for a pretty big publishing company, they run a few magazines and such. His company is looking for new members to join their graphic design team. I managed to slip your name into conversation and he wants to meet with you — take a look at your portfolio._ ”

Baekhyun’s words catch in his throat, optimism rising with each word Joonmyun offers. “Wow… I… Thank you, Joonmyun.”

“ _No problem, you were the first person who came to mind when he said he was looking. So do you think you can make it?_ ”

“Yes, of course.” This is it. His _chance._ Of course he can make it. 

“ _Okay, I’ll give him your contact info and you’ll hear from him soon. Email me your portfolio as soon as you can, and I’ll send that over, too._ ” Joonmyun sounds so official, no wonder he’s already been promoted twice since they’ve graduated. He’s made for management. 

“Thank you so much, Joonmyun. Really.” If Baekhyun could hug someone through the phone, Joonmyun would be trapped between his arms right now. 

“ _Anything for you, Baek_.”

* * *

Baekhyun’s been turning the words of Zhang Yixing’s email over in his mind since it arrived in his inbox at 9:30 this morning.

_Joonmyun sent over your portfolio. We really like what we see._

_I’d love to interview you properly next week. I’ll be leaving for a conference in Beijing on Tuesday the 9th. Would the 8th at 3pm work for you?_

The eighth. Of all days, it has to be the eighth that Yixing wants to meet him. He didn’t clarify how long he’d be out of town, and Baekhyun knows this is his opportunity. He has to go, he just doesn’t know how to break it to everyone else. How to tell Chanyeol he’ll miss the grand opening, the day they’ve all worked so hard towards. 

The party is scheduled for 5pm, and there’s simply no way he can go to Seoul, interview, and make it back in time. His mind is already made up, though, and he doesn’t know why that disappoints him so much. 

The wall behind the cafe has become their spot. All it takes is a small nod of Baekhyun’s head, and Chanyeol can read the message loud and clear. He follows Baekhyun through the back door with a spring in his step, probably anticipating a quick make-out session. Which makes what Baekhyun’s about to do all the more difficult. 

“I have to go to Seoul on Monday.” He decides to cut straight to the chase. He knows Chanyeol can hear the regret in his voice, but chooses to stare at Chanyeol’s hand in his own instead of meeting what he’s sure is Chanyeol’s confused -- and possibly hurt -- gaze.

Chanyeol’s brows scrunch. “Monday… but that’s…”

“I know. I’m really sorry, I want to be there more than anything but --” Suddenly, Chanyeol’s fingers are below his chin. He presses gently until Baekhyun finally looks up. 

“But it’s important, right?” Chanyeol’s looking for something in his eyes, some sign that will tell him Baekhyun’s doing this -- missing such an important day -- for a legitimate reason. Something to convince him that it’s okay to not be upset. “Is it something with your mom? Is everything okay?”

Baekhyun nods and swallows the lump in his throat. “It’s something really important.” He doesn’t want to clarify, and he certainly doesn’t want to lie to Chanyeol. He doesn’t know what else to say without saying too much. 

The heavy silence between them is broken when Chanyeol leans in to press his lips against Baekhyun’s reassuringly. “Then we’ll celebrate together after the opening once you’re back. Just the five of us.”

Baekhyun’s heart breaks a little at the way Chanyeol accepts his answer, at the way Chanyeol trusts him completely. He wants to tell Chanyeol the reason, he does. But he doesn’t want to acknowledge that everything could change soon, not right before Chanyeol’s grand opening. Not when he’s so happy being with Chanyeol in Gwangcheon. Especially not when the job is by no means guaranteed and Chanyeol has so much faith in him and he doesn't know if he could take failing and having Chanyeol feel sorry for him. 

He doesn’t know if he’s ready to return to Gwangcheon a disappointment for the second time. 

“Okay.” He forces a smile, squeezing Chanyeol’s hand in his own. “That sounds perfect.”

* * *

Baekhyun makes sure to send Chanyeol and everyone else a good luck text as he boards the train on Monday morning. He’s wearing his best button down and a pair of slacks that he hasn’t worn in ages. The fabric feels itchy against his legs, sweat already pooling under his shirt. He’s not sure if it’s from the humidity or his own nerves. His portfolio -- now filled with some of his recent illustrations and all of Jingnyeo’s branding work -- is tucked securely under his arm.

His nerves lurch with the train as it pulls out of the station. 

 

Seoul is just as he remembers it: busy, crowded, full of life. He doesn’t expect his return to be met with fireworks or any fanfare, but an uneasy feeling settles in his stomach when he realizes that the city hasn’t missed him at all. The subway car is filled with the usual lot of unfamiliar faces, all staring into their phone screens and trying to avoid eye contact. It’s a stark difference from what he’s gotten used to in Gwangcheon, where everyone says hello, everyone is curious. He blends right in though, falling into step with the commuters and businessmen alike as he exits the subway station. 

He checks in at the front desk to Zhang Yixing’s publishing office and waits. His nerves get the better of him as he bounces his feet. Joonmyun had sent him a good luck text an hour ago, and it eases his mind a little. If Zhang Yixing is a friend of Joonmyun’s, then he’s at least guaranteed to be a nice guy. Even if he chooses not to hire Baekhyun. 

There’s so much riding on this interview and Baekhyun has to force himself to only think about the quality of his work, his desire to work at a magazine just like this one. He can’t let his mind wander to Gwangcheon and Chanyeol and Sehun who are probably in a panic right now, running around with all their last minute preparations. He can’t think about how much he wants to be there tonight, freaking out and celebrating with them. 

His mind needs to be in the present, in _Seoul_. He’ll deal with whatever comes of the interview after it’s done. 

Zhang Yixing greets Baekhyun with a professionally warm smile and a bow. He shows him to his corner office and offers Baekhyun coffee. Baekhyun’s not sure he could hold a coffee cup steady with the way his hands are shaking and the sweat that’s accumulated on his palms, so he decides to pass. 

He knows Yixing can tell he’s nervous, which is probably why he opts to cut straight to the chase after Baekhyun is fully seated.

“As you know, we’re looking for another designer to add to our team. We’re a news magazine, mainly, but we are very open to experimenting with design, with branding too.” 

“I’ve read your magazine, I’m a fan,” Baekhyun says, setting his portfolio on the table. It’s one of those phrases they’re taught to rattle off in undergrad with every employer, flattery can get you places.

Yixing immediately picks up the portfolio, nodding his head as he begins to flip through the pages. 

“I’ve worked on some concept re-brandings, a little design,” Baekhyun continues, trying not to stare at Yixing’s reactions too intently by filling the silence. “There’s some illustrations in there too, though I know that’s not really what you’re looking for right now.”

“These are really good,” Yixing observes, running a finger along Chanyeol’s figure on the plastic-coated page. “You have a really nice style, very emotive.” 

“Thank you.” Baekhyun tries not to think about the fact that he’s blowing off the man in that picture for this interview, that he didn’t even _tell_ him about it. 

Yixing spends more time silently flipping through the pages, humming his approval and the knot in Baekhyun’s stomach slowly starts to loosen. His breathing is almost regular when Yixing closes the portfolio and sets it back on the desk between them. 

“You know, we also commission article illustrations every month, for film reviews and features. When you get all settled in here, you should definitely submit your work to them. If you want to illustrate on the side, that is.”

Baekhyun’s heart hammers out of his chest. “ _When_ I get settled in?” he echoes.

Yixing smiles, a dimple forming in his cheek. “This whole interview was just a formality, really. We’d already reviewed the digital portfolio and CV you sent over last week. Plus, you came highly recommended by Joonmyun. That’s no easy feat.”

Baekhyun does his best not to mention that he’s been Joonmyun’s friend for years, though he’s sure Yixing already knows that. Instead, he ventures, “You mean, I’m hired?”

“Yes.” Yixing smiles. “If you accept our offer, that is. We’ll be drafting up and official offer letter sometime this afternoon. Also a contract, if you’re inclined to accept?” 

“I am.” He supplies instantly, doing his best not to jump in his seat. 

“Great. You can swing by tomorrow to sign the contract with one of my associates. Looking forward to working with you, Mr. Byun.” 

It doesn’t sink in until Baekhyun’s finished shaking hands with Yixing and is scheduling a time to stop by tomorrow. He’s really done it. Not only has he been hired, but Yixing wants him to illustrate as well. Everything feels too easy, his heart feels too light. He pulls out his phone to call Chanyeol. He’s halfway through pulling up the contact before he remembers that he can’t tell Chanyeol. Not yet, not when Chanyeol doesn't even know he had an interview today. 

 

Joonmyun readily offers Baekhyun his couch when Baekhyun asks to stay over for the night. Unfortunately, Joonmyun is out for the evening on a date, apparently. Which leaves Baekhyun alone with Joonmyun’s fancy plasma television and all his mixed up thoughts. On one hand, he’s proud of himself. He feels accomplished in a way he hasn’t in a long time. The same victory also feels hollow, though, when he essentially only has crappy Mnet reruns to share it with. 

He knows there’s something else he should be celebrating tonight, and he’s not there. Even Jongdae made it out to Gwangcheon with Eunji for Jingnyeo’s opening -- which Baekhyun learns after receiving a very angry text message demanding to know where he is. 

To top it all off, it’s raining. It’s raining on August 8th, the evening of Chilseok. Baekhyun laughs bitterly to himself remembering that when it rains on the day it’s said to be the tears of the two lovers. Reuniting in joy. 

Chanyeol is in Gwangcheon, Baekhyun is in Seoul. Maybe it’s a sign.

It’s true, art does imitate life, Baekhyun realizes with a heavy heart. Baekhyun’s become Jingnyeo and Gyeonu, so distracted by Chanyeol, his hands, his kisses, his _everything_ that he’s forgotten his own work, his _passions_. He never sent out a single resumé the whole time he was in Gwangcheon, his mind had been elsewhere.

And sure, he accomplished a lot in his time away: his first real job, he learned to drive, banished the horrible voice of his mother from his thoughts. But it’s not enough to keep him in Gwangcheon, opportunities like the one he’s been presented don’t happen in Gwangcheon. 

He wants this. It’s his chance. A job, the potential to illustrate for a big name company. He can’t be distracted now, not when things he’s dreamed of for so long are finally within his fingertips.

Chanyeol is in Gwangcheon, and Baekhyun’s ambition is sending him back to Seoul. 

The rain continues to bang against the windowsill and Baekhyun knows he’s about to make a very serious decision. It might not be an entire galaxy, but he and Chanyeol are going to be separated by a lot of distance -- a world of difference. Chanyeol and Jingnyeo can’t relocate to Seoul, and Baekhyun’s wanted an opportunity like this for too long. 

His heart stings when he realizes that maybe, maybe it’s time to look ahead to the future and not allow himself any more distractions. 

Maybe he needs to let go of Chanyeol before the distance tears him away.

* * *

The cafe looks busy as Baekhyun gazes in through the front window.

It looks perfect, fairy lights across the ceiling creating the blanket of stars Chanyeol had envisioned. The mural in the back. The patrons lounging comfortably, Sehun laughing. The outside is decorated with a dozen or so congratulatory wreaths and flower displays, all wishing Chanyeol and the crew the best of luck, letting passersby know there’s something new to be experienced on the small uptown street. 

Chanyeol is behind the counter, smiling at the customers. Sehun is busy behind the espresso machine. It all looks so warm through the framing of the glass pane front window. Something pings in Baekhyun’s heart knowing that he’s about to leave it all behind, that he had signed a contract this afternoon guaranteeing his arrival in Seoul next week. He hadn’t done so without a heavy heart, but it was something he had to do. Just like coming clean about his trip is what he has to do now. 

Jingnyeo’s the place he spent so much time shaping, it’s his logo above the door, it’s his heart contained somewhere in the small -- now busy -- space. He’s going to say goodbye to it all right now, and probably break someone’s heart in the process. 

As if he can sense his presence, Chanyeol’s eyes flutter up and instantly meet Baekhyun’s. His smile is so warm, so proud as he flares his eyes and gestures to the cafe patrons.

Baekhyun’s heart cracks as his lips tug into a forced smile.

Chanyeol doesn’t seem to notice. Instead, he motions for Baekhyun to meet him out back. 

 

“I have some news.” Baekhyun smiles up at Chanyeol, who leans in to steal a kiss, his palm wrapping around Baekhyun’s waist as he nuzzles closer. 

“Good news?” Chanyeol asks into the skin of his neck. Baekhyun shivers and feebly tries to push Chanyeol away. He wants to look him in the eyes for this moment. Chanyeol appears to have other intentions, his lips beginning a full exploration of Baekhyun’s neck. 

“Yes. I think so.”

“So tell me, and then we can celebrate with more kissing.” 

“You’re so frustrating,” Baekhyun teases, his resolve crumbling. Chanyeol is so cozy, so right. Each of his kisses make Baekhyun feel more and more like he’s about to let go of one of the only things he’s ever really wanted. His lips shake as he draws a heavy breath. He’ll have to start this conversation without Chanyeol’s full attention. 

“Yesterday…. I didn’t go to Seoul to see my mother.” 

Chanyeol’s lips pause on his neck and he pulls back with a frown.

“No?” The first crack begins to form in Baekhyun’s heart as he watches Chanyeol’s confusion. He’s hurt.

“No. I went…. Well… Joonmyun got me a job interview. At a big company, a magazine. They… liked my designs.”

Baekhyun watches as Chanyeol processes the new information; watches his mouth open and close a few times before he forms a response. 

“How did it go?” His tone is so neutral, his smile so forced. Didn’t Baekhyun tell him he doesn’t always have to smile like everything’s okay?

“I got the job. They want me to start next week.”

“Next week.” Chanyeol’s hands fall from Baekhyun’s waist as he pulls even further away. Baekhyun wants to reach out, pull him back, but he knows he can’t; he _shouldn’t_.

“Yes. I’m…. I’m leaving this Friday. I’m gonna stay with Joonmyun for a few weeks until I sort out an apartment, but…”

“You’re leaving.” It’s not a question.

“Yes.”

“And what about us?” Chanyeol’s eyes are already glassed over with hurt, like he knows exactly what is coming next but still he tortures himself enough to ask. 

“We… we’ve had a good time...” It’s not what he wants to say, but there aren’t words that can soothe and break hearts in the same breath for a good reason. 

“ _‘A good time._ ’” Chanyeol echoes bitterly. “That’s what this was?”

“Chanyeol...” 

“I get it. You got your big job in Seoul and now you’re leaving. I was just someone to pass the time…” Chanyeol doesn’t raise his voice, but his lips purse in frustration, his blinking becomes more rapid as the impact of Baekhyun’s confession sets in. 

“No, Chanyeol, that’s not --”

“Then, are we going to stay together?” Chanyeol cuts in suddenly, challenging Baekhyun.

“I -- I’m going to be so busy.”

“I thought so.” Another step back, the first wall raised between them in months. 

Baekhyun’s frustration bubbles over -- he can’t tell who he’s more upset with; Chanyeol or himself. “Can’t you just be happy for me?”

“Of course I’m happy for you! But dammit. Was this just a fling or something? Was _I_ just a fling?” Chanyeol grimaces as the word ‘fling’ falls weakly from his lips. If it’s from bitterness or sheer hurt, Baekhyun’s can’t quite read.

“No.” Chanyeol is not a fling, will never be a fling. 

“Then why are you ending things? Because that’s what you’re doing right now, isn’t it? You’re breaking up with me.” His voice is so weak, demanding without any force. Because Chanyeol doesn’t know how to push, he only knows how to ask. 

“I… You are not a fling. That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?”

“I… this is my chance, Chanyeol. I get to get out of Gwangcheon, be successful, finally do what I _want_ to do!” There’s that voice again -- the one Baekhyun thought he had ridded himself of -- creeping up and taking over his tongue, biting words at the one person in the world he doesn’t want to hurt like this. Yet, he can’t stop himself. 

Chanyeol shudders back, the words hitting him and turning his eyes cold. “Leave this awful town. And me? Right? Because I’m just a simpleton and you’re actually going places now.”

“Don’t talk about yourself that way!”

“Dammit Baekhyun! I thought….” Chanyeol’s words are cut short as he sniffs his nose, refusing to meet Baekhyun’s eyes. 

“Thought what?” Baekhyun knows he shouldn’t ask, because he had thought the same thing too -- thought of _permanence_ \-- when he had been so caught up in Chanyeol. He still thinks it, still _feels_ , it with Chanyeol right in front of him. But this isn’t the moment for hope, for speaking of being all in. It would only be derision at this point, for both parties. 

It takes a moment for Chanyeol to look at him. Once he does, Baekhyun wishes he never had. His gaze has iced over completely, there’s nothing but guarded apathy left. “Nothing. It was stupid to think anyway.”

“Chanyeol --” Baekhyun reaches out, only to be shrugged away. He instigated this, but his heart isn’t ready to watch Chanyeol walk away, to give up. 

“No, no. I get it. You have dreams. I know. And it’s great that they’re coming true. Just… go. It’s fine.” _I thought you wanted me_ lingers in the unsaid, but Baekhyun hears it loud and clear -- sees it in the way Chanyeol’s shoulders slump in defeat, looking so lost and put down. 

“Chanyeol, please.” 

Chanyeol’s hands wipe his face violently before he speaks, he won’t let Baekhyun see how hurt he is, but Baekhyun can feel it. 

“I can’t… I can’t do this right now. I’ve gotta go back inside.” Chanyeol meets Baekhyun’s gaze with a sad smile as he begins to turn away. “Congratulations, Baekhyun. You’re going to do great things, I know it.” 

There’s something so final about Chanyeol’s words that keeps Baekhyun’s feet glued to the pavement, unable to follow the defeated slump of his shoulders out of the back alley.

* * *

Baekhyun waits until morning to tell his grandmother the good news. Of course, she says, she’s sad to see him go. But her smile is warm, pride bubbling over at her grandson’s prospects.

“Are you excited to start work?” she asks, leaning against the doorframe to the guest bedroom as Baekhyun begins packing. 

“Of course.” He attempts a smile. He is happy, he _is_. Yet, something about the accomplishment feels hollow -- empty just like the unfinished words Chanyeol left hanging the night before. 

“Chanyeol must be so happy for you.” His grandma smiles.

“What -- what makes you say that?” Baekhyun’s confused. He talks of Chanyeol often, sure, but not that much more than Sehun or anyone else involved in Jingnyeo’s opening. 

“Oh, come on, Baekhyun.” His grandma smiles wryly. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed. He’s special to you. You’re special to him. He’s been bragging to all my friends about how big shot Byun Baekhyun designed the logo to his new cafe. I still have to pop in now that I think about it...”

Of course, Chanyeol had made time to brag to the ahjumma gossip circle about his cafe. Baekhyun doesn’t know what to process first: that his grandma seems to understand something had gone on between him and Chanyeol, or that she seems to be so _pleased_ with whatever their ‘special’ relationship had been. 

_Had been_ he reminds himself. Because whatever was special between them ended last night, and his future isn’t anything for Chanyeol to be happy about anymore. Hopefully, though, Chanyeol’s smile will be just as bright the next time he greets Baekhyun’s grandmother. Chanyeol doesn’t share his pain openly, after all, he forces a smile through everything.

* * *

Sehun and Minseok surprise Baekhyun at the train station, bright and early on Friday morning. Minseok brings a complimentary Jingnyeo cappuccino, Sehun provides the hugs. Jongin, even, had managed to drag himself out of bed for the 8am train -- though he looks half asleep the entire time, all his responses delayed by a good five seconds.

They don’t provide any excuses for Chanyeol’s absence, an unspoken understanding leveled between them all. Chanyeol had known, and Chanyeol has his reasons for not being here. Baekhyun doesn’t think he could take it if Chanyeol had shown up with one of his forced smiles, with pleasantries that go against his own feelings. 

“We’re going to miss you,” Sehun says as the sound of the train approaching the platform gets louder. “Come visit, hyung.”

Sehun hugs him until the train is almost fully boarded, refusing to let go. Minseok barely manages to pass Baekhyun the to-go coffee -- with his logo -- as Baekhyun runs to jump on board. 

Baekhyun pulls out of Gwangcheon on the early morning train for the second time in the same week. Only this time he has a suitcase with him, his return is indefinite. There’s no rush to return, to be surrounded all that has become comfortable over the past few months. There’s only the future ahead, and a wonderful summer he’s leaving behind: Jingnyeo and all his friends who wave goodbye on the platform until they’re out of sight, Chanyeol who he’s left a piece of his broken heart with. 

He makes it to Yesan before the first tear falls -- quietly just like his departure. He supposes it’s better to let himself cry now, to leave it all behind on the train because Seoul won’t wait for him to get over the pain of everything he’s leaving behind once he steps off the train at Yongsan Station.

* * *

It takes Baekhyun a couple weeks to settle in. He’s not used to waking up at seven am -- on Joonmyun’s messy couch, no less -- and donning a button up and slacks every morning. He’s groggy, and even if Seoul is his home, he’s a little disoriented. It’s strange getting on the subway every morning to commute halfway across the city when, for months, he was able to walk nearly anywhere he wanted to go.

Thankfully, he’s busy enough at the office to not think about everything that happened in Gwangcheon, at least not too often. He has a standard cubicle, situated between two very chatty co-workers -- Kibum and Jinki -- who keep him entertained most of the day. There’s also more than enough work assigned to him to keep him busy all day, no fiddling with his pens and waiting until the clock strikes five pm. 

Yixing wasn’t lying about the workload, by any means. But Baekhyun loves it. It’s satisfying to be given assignments daily, to sit at work and play with design; taking the theme of an article and matching up the design and presentation to convey it exactly right. Of course he slips up here and there, some of the software is still unfamiliar to him, but the responses to his efforts have been mostly positive. He feels included, like his work is valuable to the team. 

He can’t wait for the first monthly issue to come out so that he can run his fingers over the ink of his own work and find his name in the credits on the editor pages. 

More promising yet, Yixing hasn’t been subtle about encouraging him to take on illustration tasks. The film review portion needs more illustrations, he reminds Baekhyun daily. All he has to do is send an email to the creative director with some of his work, and Yixing’s sure he’ll be receiving assignments in no time. 

It’s all so exciting and new, but somehow the victory feels lackluster when there’s one person he wants to share the experience with more than anyone, and that’s the one person he doesn’t think he has any right to boast to. He drafts a dozen texts to Chanyeol over the first week, but they all feel too cold, too distant. He’d rather leave it at nothing than face the disappointment that will come if Chanyeol doesn’t reply. 

 

“You don’t talk much about Gwangcheon,” Joonmyun observes one late evening. For being such a well-mannered guy, Joonmyun’s apartment is a surprising mess. Baekhyun’s spent the better part of the evening trying to declutter the living room with Joonmyun’s help. He still hasn’t locked down an apartment, and he’s not sure he’ll survive much longer sleeping between Joonmyun’s laundry piles on the couch. “You were there for months, barely called at all, and yet you have no stories to share?”

Joonmyun’s just a good friend, Baekhyun knows. He’s observant enough to know that Baekhyun’s moping about something -- Baekhyun doesn’t generally clean out of the goodness of his heart -- but he’s kind enough not to force Baekhyun to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. 

“Gwangcheon was great, really,” Baekhyun says halfheartedly, pulling another sock from between the couch cushions. “But we all knew it wasn’t anything permanent.” He hates writing it off like that, but it’s the easiest thing to do. The wound is still fresh, the hurt in Chanyeol’s eyes that last evening still burned in his conscience. 

“That doesn’t mean you can’t talk about it,” Joonmyun continues. “I’m curious about what you were up to. You’re one of my closest friends, not hearing from you for a month was a little strange.”

The fact that he essentially dropped off the face of the world only confirms Baekhyun’s conclusion that he had been too caught up, just like the lovers of Chilseok. A lot of great things happened, but he needs to not reminisce right now. Not when things are finally going according to plan. 

“I worked with some friends on their new cafe,” Baekhyun offers, though he’s pretty sure Joonmyun already knows that much. “Some other stuff happened, but I’m not ready to talk about it. Not yet.” 

Joonmyun makes his signature sympathetic face, eyes clouded with worry. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m right here.”

“I know.” Baekhyun wants to talk about it. But, he’s afraid that if he does it will mean it’s all really over. It will make everything too final; erase all the carefree joy he felt in Gwangcheon and replace it with only his concerns for the future. Like somehow acknowledging that he left Chanyeol behind will mean that he has to move on. 

He knows it’s not fair, because Baekhyun chose to leave. He had made the choice willingly. But that doesn’t mean that he’s ready to put it behind him. He wants to hold on to small bits of it, just like the way he still reminises through the Chanyeol file he’d compiled in his head for months. The one that contains all those mysterious smiles, and the loud laughs that give the noise of Seoul a run for it’s money. He still wants to hold it close, even if he shouldn’t.

 

Baekhyun falls asleep on Joonmyun’s -- now clean -- couch that evening. The magpie bridge revisits his dream. This time, there’s no rain and he can clearly see who’s waiting for him at the other end of it. His feet though, refuse to move across the clouds and birds into Chanyeol’s arms.

* * *

Baekhyun can only put off meeting his mother for so long. Work and a new job functions as a decent enough excuse for the first couple weeks. But by the time he’s finally signed a lease on his own apartment he knows he can’t blow her off any longer, especially with Chuseok just around the corner. They need to buckle down plans to visit Baekbeom in Guri, and plan what gifts to give the extended family. It’s the same routine every year.

His mother looks as well kept as ever, waiting for him at the small table of her favorite cafe. Baekhyun’s never thought the place has much character, but that’s probably what she likes about it. It’s sterile, quiet aside from the idle chatter, and high-end enough to serve complimentary cookies with each dine-in coffee order. 

“How’s work?” is the first question out of her mouth. No ‘hi,’ no how are _’you_ ’. 

“I like it,” he says proudly, choosing to not be offended. It’s always easier that way. Plus, he has plenty to brag about now, in her eyes. “My boss really likes my stuff so far, they might even let me take on some illustration work soon.”

He catches the unpleasant twitch of his mother’s lips at the word ‘illustration.’ “Good. That’s good. I knew some time back in Gwangcheon would be what you needed to get your act together again.”

“I kind of miss it, actually.” The words slip out before Baekhyun can stop them. Instantly his mother’s eyes turn scrutinous. 

“Miss what?” she asks much more firmly than the casual questions before. “What is there to possibly miss about Gwangcheon?”

“What?” He knows why his mother sent him back home, but the way she says the words with such disdain makes his toes curl.

“It’s a dead end town, nothing good can happen there. I admit, I was concerned when you said you befriended some of the people there, the ones that aren’t going anywhere in life.” Baekhyun sets his cup down with a loud clunk at her bluntness. “But it seems you figured it all out in the end. I’m proud of you.”

Baekhyun’s heart should be bursting with joy with his mother’s praise, instead he fights to hold back his tongue. There’s no use in changing her mind, she’s hated Gwangcheon since he was small. But how can she say that about the people who were good to him? About Sehun, Minseok, Jongin. About _Chanyeol_? The people who befriended him, no questions asked and made him feel included; who made him feel like he was good enough just as he is. 

“Don’t talk about my friends that way, Mom,” he warns in a tone he has never used with her before. 

“Friends?” she echoes incredulously. “Those aren’t your friends.”

But Baekhyun doesn’t want to let her words pass this time. 

“I was happy there, Mom. People were good to me. You -- you can’t just write them off like that. It’s not fair.” 

“‘Them’ or Park Chanyeol? I heard about your friendship, if that’s what you want to call it,” his mother says, judgment laced in every word. 

“Don’t talk about Chanyeol like that,” Baekhyun warns, again. He can handle her talking about his life choices, his shortcomings, but she has no right to judge Chanyeol. She has no right to care about whatever relationship he had with the man. It’s not hers to control. 

“So it’s true then?” Though the question comes out steady, she looks angry, offended at the realization. For the first time, Baekhyun doesn’t want to hold his tongue, doesn’t want to pretend everything is fine. 

“Yes. It’s true,” Baekhyun confirms. “Or at least, it was,” he says a bit more quietly. Chanyeol isn’t his anything anymore, not since Baekhyun left without another word. Even if it’s his past though, Chanyeol doesn’t deserve to be dismissed by his mother so easily. Chanyeol deserves so much more. 

There’s a tense moment as his mother stares him down, waiting for him to backtrack or apologize. But Baekhyun’s not backing down this time. He half expects her to start yelling or something, instead she picks up her latte and resumes sipping. 

“Then it’s good that you’ve put it behind you,” she finally says with a look that means the discussion is over. 

Baekhyun hasn’t put it behind him, no matter how hard he tries. Not when he had refused to talk about it with Joonmyun, and not when he signed a full year lease on a small officetel. The realization hits like a ton of bricks. He’s not going to get over it, he doesn’t _want_ to be over it. Given the choice, he’d take Chanyeol’s smiles and his mother’s judgement over her acceptance any day. 

The thought is enough to force him to stand, politely setting his napkin on the table as his mother watches. 

“Sit back down,” she instructs quietly, so as not to draw attention to them. 

“No, Mom.” Baekhyun doesn’t think he’s ever said those words to her face before. It feels liberating. “I have to go. I’ll see you at Chuseok.” 

And with that, he’s out the door. Returning to his unpacked apartment and thoughts of Chanyeol. He hadn’t thought it would hurt so much to finally say aloud that things were over between them, he didn’t expect the hole in his heart to feel even bigger at the confession. 

 

He’s the one who left though, and it’s probably too late to fix it.

* * *

**From: Sehun**  
[IMG Attached]  
Look how busy we are! Come visit soon, hyung. We miss you.

 

 **From: Sehun**  
He misses you.

* * *

Baekhyun stares at the bank statement on his phone. He had opened the application to make sure his paycheck came through, and had been surprised to see more money than expected. As he scrolls through his recent deposits, he discovers exactly why.

There, right before his paycheck, is a deposit from Park Chanyeol. The final installment for his work on the cafe. As if that isn’t enough to break his heart, the memo line reads a simple, “Good luck in Seoul.” Chanyeol hasn’t used formal speech with him since the first time they met in the kimbap shop, and it feels like a slap in the face. So impersonal, so distant. After everything, it’s like they’re complete strangers now. Even if Baekhyun knows that’s not true. 

He hates that it had ended the way it did, that he never got the chance to tell Chanyeol how _thankful_ he is for everything he had done. That all their time together had ended in an argument and Chanyeol walking away heartbroken, probably thinking he meant little more to Baekhyun than a casual fling. That he was nothing more to Baekhyun than a temporary employer and friend.

Baekhyun hasn’t stopped -- _can’t_ stop -- thinking about Chanyeol. Not as an employer, not as a fling, but as someone really important to him. Someone he was well on his way to falling for before life got in the way. Before his own ambitions outweighed the happiness he felt in Gwangcheon. It’s only been a little over a month and the image of the hurt in Chanyeol’s eyes that last night still burns just as much as it did then. 

He doesn’t want that to be all he has left of Chanyeol -- a sad memory and 500,000 won in his bank account. But with the final payment for his services deposited, Chanyeol has indirectly severed the last tie they had to each other-- cut the string before Baekhyun had an excuse to run back to him. Maybe that’s for the best, because Baekhyun has a good set-up now: a job, an apartment, a chance at a future. 

His eyes sting from staring at the note too long, and maybe a hint of something else. He turns off the screen and doesn’t look at his phone for the rest of the evening.

* * *

“How’s the new job going?” Jongdae’s managed to make it up to Seoul for the weekend. Save when Joonmyun helped him move in, he’s the first guest Baekhyun has had over. There’s no reason to go out when they’re both more comfortable platonic snuggling on the couch, either.

“Good. It’s really great,” Baekhyun says halfheartedly, distracted with shrimp chips in his mouth. 

“Shouldn’t you sound more excited when you say that?”

“I am excited,” Baekhyun defends, “It’s just been a lot of work to adjust to. I’m tired.”

Jongdae’s silent for a moment before his eyes narrow at Baekhyun. “You miss him, don’t you?”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb. Chanyeol. You miss Chanyeol.” Jongdae hasn’t brought up Chanyeol since Baekhyun moved back to Seoul, Baekhyun’s wishes he wouldn’t start now. 

Lying to Jongdae is pointless. One; they’ve never lied to each other. Two: Jongdae already knows the truth, he just wants Baekhyun to own up to it. 

Baekhyun plays with the corner of blanket in his lap, allowing the words to slip out quietly, “Yeah, I do.” 

“Then go get him back,” Jongdae says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

“I can’t do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because what if I’m like Gyueno who got so distracted by love that he forgot about his herd?” Baekhyun’s rambling, and he knows it. “The whole time I was in Gwangcheon, I never sent out a single resumé, Jongdae. I was too distracted with Chanyeol, his cafe, his friends. I have a good thing now -- my dream job. I can’t let it slip away because I’m too distracted.”

“Never took you for a folk tale aficionado,” Jongdae says teasingly. 

“You know why.”

“Also, you’re such an idiot.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Jongdae repeats. “Yes, you got caught up in Chanyeol. But you know what else you did? You designed the entire menu, did the branding for that cafe. You learned to drive. You sketched more than you have in the past three years. You made the kind of art you wanted, and it helped land you a job!”

“But who's to say that I won’t get caught up again? Gwangcheon isn’t exactly close. He’s there, I’m here. Chanyeol hates Seoul, and my work is here.” Baekhyun doesn’t know why he’s still arguing, everything Jongdae is saying makes sense. That’s the hardest part to accept. 

“You heart is there though.” Jongdae pulls Baekhyun back to his chest to run his fingers through his hair. “Look, Baek. Fairy tales are fiction for a reason. You’re not dumb enough to forget who you are -- what you love to do -- just because you give your heart to someone. It’s possible to make your own happy ending.”

“You’re so cheesy.” Baekhyun snuggles closer, appreciating the familiar smell of Jongdae’s aftershave. He already knows he’s lost this battle, and that’s probably a good thing.“What’s gotten into you?”

“I’m just saying, I have faith in you. I want you to be happy. You can have both.” Jongdae pats Baekhyun’s head one final time. “Or, if you don’t want me to be cheesy, I can kick your butt back to Gwangcheon and make you do something about it.”

* * *

It takes a week for Baekhyun to work up the courage to do what he knows he should have done a month ago. His laptop is open, the train reservation website pulled up, Gwangcheon selected as the destination.

He’s just selected his seat when his doorbell rings. He hasn’t ordered food, and not many of his friends know his new address. Maybe it’s one of those church groups that go door to door on weekends collecting donations. He decides to ignore it. 

Whoever it is, though, is very insistent as they soon abandon the doorbell and take to knocking directly on the door. Baekhyun sets his laptop on the couch and his halfway to the door when he hears a very familiar call of his name through the metal. 

“Baekhyun?” 

He trips over an unpacked box in the doorway to the kitchenette. His apartment is too small for him to still have moving boxes littered about the space, but something’s been stopping him from unpacking the last few boxes. In this moment, he knows exactly what it is. 

The knocking continues as he finally approaches the door. Reaching for the doorknob, he draws a heavy breath, preparing himself for what’s on the other side. 

Chanyeol’s wearing jeans, for once. Baekhyun wants to smile, but his eyes are instantly drawn to how _tired_ Chanyeol looks. The circles under his eyes are more prominent than ever, his hair even more shaggy than the last time he saw the man, and it had already been an endearingly shaggy mess that time. 

“Chanyeol?” he asks hesitantly. It’s kind of a dumb question and he knows it, but he’s still trying to make sense of the fact that Chanyeol is here, in _Seoul_ in _jeans_ , banging on Baekhyun’s front door like his life depends on it. 

“Baekhyun,” Chanyeol breathes in relief. “I thought I had the wrong address, and then I would have made a real idiot of myself if I started talking to the closed door.” Baekhyun’s stomach flips at the words. 

“What are you doing in Seoul?” Baekhyun asks, eyebrows raised in suspicion. “I thought you hated Seoul?”

Chanyeol’s lips curve in a small smirk.

“I never said I hated Seoul, Byun. I said there was nothing in Seoul _for me._ ”

“And now…?” Baekhyun asks, trying not to let himself get too caught up in his own wishful thinking. Chanyeol could be here to tell him he overpaid him, or for something official. Not because he’s been thinking about Baekhyun as much as Baekhyun has been thinking about him. 

Chanyeol manages a light chuckle, shrugging, hand still buried in his back pockets. “And now, that may have changed.”

Baekhyun bites his lips to hide his surprise at Chanyeol’s words. “Oh? What changed?”

“There might be someone I’m kind of falling in love with living here now -- in this apartment actually --” Chanyeol playfully looks over Baekhyun’s shoulder into the small apartment, “And I’m kind of hoping he feels the same. Because….”

“He does.” Baekhyun cuts Chanyeol off, too excited to wait for the man to finish his thought. 

“What?” Chanyeol’s eyes widen with a little shock and a lot of hope. 

“He -- _I_ feel the same,” Baekhyun says firmly. 

“You do?”

“Yes.” 

Chanyeol’s beaming smile gives the dim hallway lights a run for their money. Actually, it’s not even a competition, Chanyeol is infinitely brighter. 

“Look, I’m not saying I’m going to pack everything up and follow you to the big city after only three months. But this...” he pauses removing a hand from his pocket and motioning between the two of them. “... _Us_ …” he continues tentatively, “I think it’s worth a shot.”

Baekhyun doesn’t know if he laughs in relief or simply because it’s just so _Chanyeol_ to say something potentially life changing so casually -- like he’s talking about the weather or the lunch specials at his family’s restaurant.

“It’s not like we’re separated by the entire Milky Way or anything. It's only two hours by train,” Chanyeol continues, “I tried out the route today and it really wasn’t bad. And you know, the train runs both ways.”

Baekhyun smiles a little to himself -- yes, he knows. He had just been booking his own ticket to make his way back to Chanyeol. He keeps that little fact to himself, though, as he reaches out to take Chanyeol’s free hand.

“I don’t really like the train,” Baekhyun finally says, and he watches Chanyeol’s face drop a little before he runs his thumb gently over Chanyeol’s palm. “You forget that I now know how to drive a car. Some handsome guy taught me how to a couple months ago, actually.”

Chanyeol looks up from their joined hands and smiles wide, “Oh, really? A handsome guy? Should I be jealous?”

“Definitely. Though, he kept yelling at me about the clutch and breaking the transgression or something--”

“ _Transmission._ ” Chanyeol interrupts, causing Baekhyun to chuckle.

“Right, right. That thing. So I was thinking now would be as good a time as any to invest in my own car. You know, so I can get out of Seoul every few weekends. Though I’m definitely going for an automatic.”

“I see,” Chanyeol says with mock comprehension.

He really wants to kiss the smug look off Chanyeol’s face, run his tongue along Chanyeol’s teeth and swallow his smiles. But his neighbors are in the hall. It takes all his willpower to not tug Chanyeol down by his shirt collar, instead he whispers, “Do you want to… come in?” 

Baekhyun’s nervous, and it shows. But he’s also elated, and all too overcome with disbelief. He’s the one who should have run back to Chanyeol, and yet, here Chanyeol is -- confirming that the longing had been mutual, forgiving Baekhyun without a second thought, and giving Baekhyun his heart for the second time. 

Chanyeol always beats him to the punch, and he can’t say he minds. 

“Thought you’d never ask.” 

 

 

It’s kind of funny to Baekhyun that an hour and a half ago, he was booking train tickets to go to Chanyeol. Now that same man is here, in _Seoul_ , splayed out in Baekhyun’s bed with his head resting on Baekhyun’s stomach. That same man is the one who kissed him so _so_ hungrily against his own front door. The man he lead to the bedroom not long after, and rocked into slowly, the only words spoken being whispers of each other’s names and ‘missed yous.’ 

Chanyeol is _here_ , in Baekhyun’s bed, in _Seoul_. And even if he looks positively wrecked after the emotional reunion, Baekhyun doesn’t think he’s ever seen a more perfect sight.

There’s a lot left to discuss, to sort through. Baekhyun still has a million more apologies ready to fall from his mouth. But he also wants to appreciate this moment -- the quiet, contented air between them -- as they lay in Baekhyun’s double bed. 

“How’d you find me?” Baekhyun asks when the thought hits him, breaking the serene air. He’s not sure if Chanyeol has drifted of to sleep or not, given his steady breathing against his belly.

“It’s not like you went into hiding or anything.” Chanyeol looks up lazily before adjusting himself so that his chin is propped on Baekhyun’s chest. 

“It’s not like I left a calling card behind or something, either,” Baekhyun points out. “Did you stalk me?” 

“No.” Chanyeol’s warm laugh may tickle his skin, but it’s perfect. “Your grandmother and Miss Lee may or may not have paid me a visit at the cafe and included your address on the card to the flower arrangement they gave us.”

“Seriously, every ahjumma in town is wrapped around your finger. Even my own grandmother. They love you.”

Chanyeol laughs again.“No, they love _you_. They want to see you happy.”

“So they sent you to me?” The affectionate hand Baekhyun threads through Chanyeol’s hair contradicts the tone of his question.

“Like I said, they want to see you happy.” Chanyeol beams, pushing himself further up until they’re face to face. There’s so much emotion swirling in his eyes, and Baekhyun wants to map it all out, put words to it. One word in particular. At the same time, he doesn’t need to, because he can _feel_ it all, and that’s enough. 

“That’s an awful cocky assumption to make, Park.”

“Is it not true, Byun?” Chanyeol presses their foreheads together.

Baekhyun shuts him up with a kiss. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

Maybe Chanyeol makes him more than happy. Maybe Chanyeol makes him feel loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's still an epilogue. but, even after cutting out an entire smut scene, this chapter is ridiculously long. bright side: they're together for most of it.


	5. Epilogue: Yeah, when I'm with you, I have fun.

It takes a couple months -- a handful of missed trains and Skype calls -- before Baekhyun and Chanyeol find a groove. Distance is never easy to overcome, but not being together isn’t an option either entertains. Early fall quickly fades into a frigid winter, one where Baekhyun spends his Sundays wrapped up in Chanyeol’s sheets, refusing to move away from the warmth that is his boyfriend. Chanyeol tickles and whines to the best of his ability, but Baekhyun always refuses to budge. He knows Chanyeol appreciates the snuggling just as much as he does. 

It’s still a two and a half hour train ride to the city, but they quickly discover Chanyeol can make the drive in an hour and fifty minutes with the way he speeds. Chanyeol even has a favorite parking space around the corner from Baekhyun’s place, his own T-Money card, and a bookstore he excitedly drags Baekhyun to whenever he visits Seoul. Baekhyun isn’t surprised that Chanyeol makes an effort to get to know all of Baekhyun’s neighbors, or that he quickly acquires a harem of neighborhood ahjummas who instantly recognize his blue truck and try to convince him to visit their restaurant whenever he walks past. 

While Baekhyun enjoys Chanyeol’s little excursions to Seoul -- enjoys watching Chanyeol become more and more comfortable with the big city -- he’s even more pleased with the Friday afternoons when Yixing lets him off early so he can catch the 6:30 train to Gwangcheon. Weekends like this, he can wake up bright and early on Saturday morning to smell of spam, rice, and eggs before following Chanyeol to Jingnyeo. 

From the vantage point of his favorite table near the reading nook, he watches the college girls tactlessly flirt with his boyfriend while Chanyeol dishes out his signature smiles and delicious coffee. Jingnyeo is, unsurprisingly, quite popular with the female college crowd. Baekhyun credits that to their exceptionally attractive staff, even if Chanyeol makes it clear that he isn’t available every time a patron is bold enough to ask for his number. 

Chanyeol still burns the milk, or his hand, at least once a day. Baekhyun doesn’t really see those habits changing anytime soon. Half of Baekhyun’s weekend entertainment comes from watching Chanyeol clumsily injure himself behind the counter. He throws Baekhyun a sheepish smile every time, kindling all the warm feelings Baekhyun already has for the man. 

Baekhyun laughs watching Sehun grind espresso beans, remembering the weekend previous when Mr. Jung had finally caught Sehun in the act and chased him halfway across town with a broom and a string of profanities that no Morality teacher should be screaming. He laughs even harder when he remembers Sehun’s vow to continue with his tradition, scary old men with brooms be dammed. 

Come February, Sehun will finally graduate. He’ll be able to work the day shifts at Jingnyeo, and free up even more of Chanyeol’s schedule. Baekhyun can’t wait to have Chanyeol around during the week. Even more exciting, Yixing is open to Baekhyun occasionally working remotely. It doesn’t mean he can move to Gwangcheon any time soon, but it does mean less time apart. It’s not ideal, but it works because they want it to. Because Baekhyun loves Chanyeol, and Chanyeol feels the same -- a fact confirmed not two weeks after Chanyeol showed up at his apartment door. 

Today, Baekhyun had met his grandmother for lunch in Kimbap Cheonguk. He’s decided to spend Lunar New Year with her and Miss Lee this year, and the change requires a little planning. His mother had been surprisingly quiet -- accepting -- when he’d broken the news. He doesn’t know how to fix whatever non-relationship they have now, and he’s not sure he wants to. Not when he has his grandma’s warm hugs to embrace him, and Mrs Park’s welcoming smile each time she invites him to dinner and Go Stop matches with the whole Park family. 

 

“Hey Byun,” Chanyeol’s familiar voice whispers over his shoulder, pulling his attention away from his laptop screen. The cafe has cleared out, only Chanyeol and Baekhyun remain to clean up and lock the doors. 

“Yes?” He questions, already seeing an idea brewing in Chanyeol’s eyes. 

“I realized something the other day,” Chanyeol says, “Come with me behind the counter?”

Baekhyun willingly complies, Chanyeol leading him by the hand the short distance. 

“We made this,” Chanyeol marvels, looking at the mural they painted together all those months ago.

“Are we taking a stroll down memory lane or….?” 

“Not exactly. “Chanyeol laughs quietly, and it still echoes off the walls. “We painted this together, but I realized the other day that we never signed it.”

Baekhyun scans the base of the mural, and sure enough, there’s no signatures to be found. He hadn’t even thought to sign it when they’d finished it back in July, too occupied with his budding feelings for the man who is now holding his hand. 

“Well, we should definitely fix that.” Baekhyun squeezes Chanyeol’s hand tighter. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Chanyeol agrees, pulling a permanent marker from his apron pocket. He passes it to Baekhyun with a fond smile. “I’ll let you do the honors.” 

Baekhyun takes the marker, proud grin on his face and he squats by the base of the mural. He writes his own name in simple hangul and then Chanyeol’s flush with it. He shouldn’t be surprised when Chanyeol pulls the marker from his hand to draw a small heart next to the names, and the date 8/8. 

“Now it’s really ours.”

And yes, Baekhyun thinks, Jingnyeo is really theirs -- Sehun, Jongin and Minseok’s too. But this wall, with its magpie bridge and its little hidden heart, is just theirs. Baekhyun and Chanyeol’s. 

Jingnyeo, in many ways, has become Baekhyun’s real home. It’s the place he built with his friends, the place he now spends entire afternoons sketching away on his tablet without an ounce of remorse. It doesn’t hurt that he’s served unlimited free coffee and tea, always with a wink. 

It’s a part of him as much as he is a part of it, and Baekhyun doesn’t think his heart could be any more full. 

Except maybe when Chanyeol pulls him in for a kiss whispering a quiet “love you,” against Baekhyun’s lips before pulling away and dotting the tip of his nose with the still-open marker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story Notes:
> 
> [1] This fic is set the Western rural counties of Chungcheongnam-do, South Korea. All the geographies, towns, etc are real. I chose Gwangcheon semi at random, and took a lot of liberties with it from there. For my own convenience while writing -- and to keep things from getting too complicated geographically while reading -- the Gwangcheon of the story is more a combination of a few towns in the same county.  
> [2] Here is [a link](http://m.korea.net/english/NewsFocus/Culture/view?articleId=124154) to the story of Jingnyeo and Gyeonu. Chilseok in Korea is also (and mainly) celebrated on July 7th of the Roman calendar.  
> [3] For those who know me, I spend a lot of time in the same coffee shop. Despite that, I don’t actually know much about coffee, other than how to make my own vanilla latte and work the register. So please forgive any discrepancies. Same goes with Kimbap restaurants.  
> [4] [Here is a playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLiVxIhGD5cgGDx5l5l3qcO42AvNelRIfG) for the fic. (Songs referenced/some of Chanyeol's musical tastes tacked on to the end.)
> 
> Author's Note:
> 
> This is the longest thing I have ever written. The longest thing I will probably ever write. I don’t love it, but I’ve had this story and draft for over a year. It needed to be finished. If you made it this far (and weren’t bored to death), then thank youuuuu //shoots a lot of hearts//. I couldn’t have done it without those who test read (A, & D x 3), beta’d (Diem) and encouraged me on twitter, and in the comments here. I know there aren't a ton of readers, but you’re all wonderful. and I hope you enjoyed the story in some small way.
> 
> forgive any typos I didn't catch. slowly but surely, I will find them all.
> 
> Please do leave a comment, feedback, or kudos. ([LJ link post if you don't have AO3](http://noonaofdarkness.livejournal.com/feed/)) I guess in a way, this fic is my baby, and posting it to the sound of crickets chirping might break my heart a little. (might break my heart a lot)
> 
> I’m on [twitter](https://twitter.com/chelmarr) if you ever want to say hello. 
> 
> //retreats into caffeinated cave//


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